Taken but not Forgotten
by silmelinde
Summary: "I would rather see my son die than be indebted to a pirate." AU A margin of drama, a bit of humour and a lot of adventure. James is raised by the pirates.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: They're not mine, but I sure am fond of them.

Yep, I'm aware that the original line had a slightly different meaning, but I had to alter the quote slightly to fit the narrative.

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><p>Calm and clear, on windless mornings, when you look at the waters from a high shore, there is no greater beauty to behold than the first rays of sunlight golden the green depths of the sea. You have a glimpse of life stirring beneath the surface: colourful fish lurking in perfect formations, corals swaying gracefully with the tide, and your imagination draws the faint outlines of the priceless treasures, distant and unknown. Gold sparks run along the green surface, and the sea alive and vibrant awakens the soul to the greatest emotion of all, love.<p>

It was the eyes of the same colour of the green sea that through no fault of their own have caused the bloodiest strife a pirate and a loyal servant of the British Navy could have. Admiral Lawrence Norrington and Teague the Code Keeper of all the Caribbean Pirates were enemies for life, contesting for the heart of the same woman. Although she had made her choice, Teague had not given up hope. Many times he had set ambushes for Norrington's ships, either to kill him or dreaming to find Catherine aboard one day so he could kidnap her. Seven years lasted their conflict, two for love and five for revenge. They fought eleven battles at sea, three on land and twelve times they have met face to face in combat. Neither of them had won, although their injuries ran numerous and their crew losses amounted. Each time Teague had to retreat, but he knew he would be returning.

It was a folly, but no matter how hard he tried to forget these eyes, Teague could no more have ripped them out of his heart than ripped his heart out of his chest. He glared into his rum mug and intense hate surged through him at the man who had taken her from him, the man who was last to hold her in his arms when she died giving birth to her son. Curse that Admiral, who now had a five year old son, no doubt a spitting image of his father. They were going to pay. He heard that Norrington was out patrolling the sea again. For the first time he was bringing his son with him, no doubt to brainwash the kid and teach him early how to hang pirates up on the rail. Teague swiped the mug aside, and it fell with a loud thud. This time he was going to kill the Admiral.

His ship, _Misty Maiden_, had set a trap for Norrington's crew at a desolate island. They approached _Guardian Lawrence_ in the morning fog, with the sails down to better their cover. Before the cannons fired, the pirates were already aboard. The battle was bloody, with both ships causing minor damage as they came port to port. Both crews fought like the men possessed. They were old enemies.

In the heat of battle, Teague strived to reach only one man. He fought his way madly through to the captain's deck. As his cutlass clashed with a hard forged sword, in the corner of his eye he saw a small figure of a boy who was trying to keep out of the adults' way. He wondered why Lawrence had kept the boy on deck during the battle. A plan came to him. Rather than killing his enemy, it was better to make him suffer. It was better to kill the boy and sink Norrington's ship, and then leave him heartbroken, just like Teague had been. However, one step at a time, he thought.

Norrington was the best swordsman of the Navy. His reputation for killing pirates in hand to hand combat was terrific. Not one of them wanted to be in his reach in an onboard battle. However, Teague was driven by fury and he had more tricks up his sleeve than any pirate in all seven seas. The opponents were well matched. Both of them have learned each other's strengths and weaknesses, but the Admiral grew predictable whereas Teague was not out of tricks yet. This is why at the opportune moment he side-stepped Norrington's swing and drove his cutlass deep into Admiral's shoulder. The Admiral staggered and dropped his sword. With all his might Teague punched his opponent and send his sprawling across the deck.

With the cutlass dripping in blood, Teague lunged for the boy with a maddening grin, already savouring the victory. He slowed down one instance to take a proper aim. The delay was long enough to have his heart pause, and his entire body froze.

Innocent, green eyes met his own, causing him to forget everything around him. Those were Catherin's eyes, looking at him in fear. That fear tore at his heart.

The boy, reading a murderous intent in the pirate's eyes, backed up, stumbled and with a small yelp fell overboard.

Teague jumped after him. The water was boiling and misty due to the two ships in close quarters stirring it roughly. Teague forced himself to keep his eyes wide open. He dived lower to the clearer water, finally catching a glimpse of the sinking figure. Quite easily, Teague gripped the boy around his waist, and re-emerged by the port bow of the _Guardian Lawrence_. The boy stirred and coughed in his hard grasp.

Teague climbed aboard, and was forced to stop, perched up on the railing. The Admiral was waiting for him only a few steps away.

"Father," the boy called out, reaching for the Admiral.

He was of Catherine's blood. Teague knew that he couldn't kill the boy, but it didn't mean he couldn't use him as leverage.

"You owe me a life debt, mate!" Teague yelled to Norrington. "Surrender your ship, and I will give you your boy back, and I promise not to kill anymore of your crew."

Admiral's face contorted in anger. Humiliation burned him like poison. "What good is a coward son to me who stumbles away from the pirates?" he shouted. "I never asked you to save him. I would rather have my son die than be indebted to a filthy pirate! Toss him back into the sea for all I care!"

He ripped a pistol off his belt and fired it at the pirate's head. With nowhere to go, Teague jumped back into the water. When he dived out, still holding the boy, he noticed that his crew was retreating. A brief glimpse of the sea revealed the problem. Another Navy ship was heading towards them.

Teague swam to _Misty Maiden_ where he was helped to get aboard by a rope tossed by his first mate. The pirates were retreating under fire. Some fell under bullets, but the rest cut the ties connecting the ships. It was best to retreat. _Guardian Lawrence_ had a damaged mast and could not have pursued them, but they still had to get out of her shooting range.

Teague ran towards his cabin where he tossed the boy onto the floor. He paused, but then thought better of threatening the boy about trying to escape. Where would a child go, on deck that was crowded by pirates or jump back into the sea? Teague slammed the cabin door shut, locked it, and rushed to take over the escape orders from his first mate. Getting away from two armed Navy vessels was no trifle task. He'll lead his crew to safety, and then think what he should do with the boy.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been one of the most exhausting escapes of his lifetime. His crew had been up on deck for five days without rest. They had no place nor time to stop and fix the damage sustained in a fight with _Guardian Lawrence_, thus being forced to make the repairs as the ship glided along the sea. The Navy had chased them all the way to Cuba and around the island, until _Misty Maiden_ had managed to shake off the pursuit when they crossed paths with another pirate ship.

Once he was certain that their pursuers had lost track of them, Teague gave orders to sail to the Aruba Island. If a vagabond like himself had a right to call some place home, that had to be the closest to what he defined as such. His mother lived there. This was the place where he had taken his son Jack to be raised after his wife had been killed at Madagascar twelve years ago. He hoped that his mother was in a charitable mood to take in another boy whom he was about to hoist on her. Of course, he had to prepare damn good presents for her in order to make his request more persuasive, especially when it came to a boy as odd as the one he was carrying in his arms.

The boy was eerily silent. He never complained, never cried, in fact, never uttered a sound. Teague might have thought him a mute had he not heard him call out to his father the day of his abduction. During the time he was aboard the _Misty Maiden_, the boy huddled up in the furthest corner of the captain's cabin out of Teague's way. Not that he had spent much time in his quarters while the Navy was after them to observe the boy. The boy followed his commands, ate what he was given, slept where he was told, but he opted for staying nearly invisible and out of his captor's reach. Was he old enough to have understood what happened to him? Intuitively, Teague sensed that he did. At least, the boy seemed to have understood exactly what his father had shouted in anger. Before he jumped into the sea, Teague had felt the boy shudder violently and shrink into himself at Lawrence's words. Teague supposed he couldn't blame the boy for being upset. Inwardly, Teague cursed the Admiral once again for putting him into an awkward situation. Why didn't he throw the boy on deck before jumping into the water, he mulled over sullenly as he made his way through the bustling docks of Aruba.

Aruba operated in a fashion similar to Tortuga, except there were fewer pirates and more southern trading ships. The authorities were lax, allowing anyone who had the currency to dock, making the island a colourful and a relatively dangerous place. Anyone even with a bit of intelligence would be carrying their weapons close at hand. Teague followed one of the crooked streets to the outskirts of the port where his grandmother's home stood.

The outer gate was shut, but Teague was no stranger here. He inserted his cutlass into one of the cracks and with a motion upwards and to the right, lifted the latch. He crossed the yard confidently and called out a loud greeting, better safe than sorry. He wouldn't have put it past his mother to shoot any unwelcome visitors.

His call was answered slowly, and only after he opened the front door and barged in. A lanky teenager with an unruly mane of black hair appeared out of the shadows. He lingered at a safe distance from Teague.

"Hello father," he said, clearly not at ease.

"Jack, where is your grandmother?" Teague asked without a greeting.

"No idea. Went out, said she'll be back in two days, haven't seen her in five."

Teague was vaguely pleased. That would give him some time to buy gifts for her and figure out what he was going to do with the boy. He caught a curious glance his son had given to his charge. Jack was quick witted enough to guess that this was the reason Teague came to see his mother.

"I take it you want to see grandmother on the account of a new addition to our household, who most likely is a son of a rich father who'll be wanting to spare no extra expense for getting his dear offspring back?" Jack tried for an explanation. "I could use a name though to make it clearer to her who this is, and what are we going to do with him? Hold him for ransom?"

Teague didn't know what he was going to do, but he was damned if he was going to admit it to Jack. He wasn't in a mood to explain his love story to his son. He disposed of the boy by dropping him in front of Jack.

"It's what you're going to do. You are going to watch him until I get back," he ordered irritably.

"Watch him literally or in a figuratively speaking sense?"

"In a sense that he has better still be in this house when I get back."

James carried all dirt of the battle and sea salt on him. He was trying not to scratch, but there were marks left on his skin. Jack was eyeing the boy, confusion clearly written on his face. He had no idea how to react to this new pet. Clearly, some further instruction was in order. "Give him a bath, you lazy charlatan," Teague ordered. He turned on his heel sharply and went out the door, trying not to look back.

"Oh, all right," Jack grumbled. He waited for his father to leave and then roguishly looked around. An empty bucket caught his eye. "Follow me, ransom," he told the boy. They went outside to the yard where Jack filled the bucket with water. He came up to the boy and upended it over James' head.

The five year old looked up at him in surprise, uncertain how to react to such an offence. He had never seen a grown up act this way before.

"There, all clean," Jack declared, triumphal. "Now that we have all the orders handled, shall we get to the formalities? My name is Jack, Jack Sparrow, a future Captain and a free man. Who might you be?"

The boy didn't answer, although his eyes stared at Jack with a dark intensity underneath his long eyelashes. The stare was to say the least unnerving, almost causing Jack to fidget.

"Now be a good boy and sit here while I take a nap," he said cheerfully, covering up his unease with a large yawn. As if the matter was wholly settled, Jack went back to his bed in the corner. Without undressing he stretched out on it and was deep asleep in an instant.

He didn't think he was asleep that long when a hit across his face brought him awake.

"Wake up at once!" His father was shaking him hard. Jack opened his eyes. "The boy! Where is the boy, you fool?"

Jack was up on his feet at once. A brief search of the house and the yard proved useless. More persuaded by his father's wrath than concern (although perhaps it wasn't such a good idea for a little kid to venture all by himself around Aruba) he ran down the street, his destination chosen intuitively. _Think like the kid._ If he was a spoiled brat of some rich daddy who just happened to have enough wits to escape his captors where would he go on a completely unfamiliar island surrounded by scoundrels? He'd have no idea where to go. _Well, that helps_, Jack decided. He turned a corner absolutely randomly and kept running until a burst of drunken laughter, loud even for Aruba, caught his attention. There must have been something unusually entertaining going on. The noise was coming from a nearby house. He climbed over the fence and snuck along the wall. He peeked into a carelessly open window. The room was occupied by two pirates, half-broken table with chairs and countless number of rum bottles scattered across the floor. Two pirates, somehow miraculously managing to swagger around all the mess without tripping, were playing a game.

Jack instantly spotted the person he was looking for. The boy was tied up and seated on the table with his back to a wooden board. He eyes were squeezed shut, and he was biting his lips to suppress his fear. They laughed stupidly whenever he flinched and tried harder to intimidate him. The pirates were competing by throwing knives at him, trying to get one in as close to the target as possible without killing him. A large pile of coins they've been gambling for were dumped on the chair.

"Pardon me, fine gentlemen," Jack shouted to be heard over their squabbling over who had won the previous round. "I have highly secretive and important information for Mr Smith. Do either of you happen to know him?"

The pirates quit their inner fighting, instantly united against an intruder.

"Now who'd you be, boy?" asked one of them. "It's my home, and you be trespassin' on my territory."

Jack scowled inwardly as being called a boy. At fourteen he was nearly a full man grown. His face, however, revealed nothing but a friendly dimwit. "Me? I'm not important, but someone who had asked me to fetch Mr Smith is very, very important as he is very, very rich, and he said he has something to give to Mr Smith, so I must be finding him." He looked around like he was afraid to be overheard and lowered his voice. "I think it must be something shiny," he muttered.

A second pirate appeared to be a quicker thinker. "You don't say," he said, approaching the window and leaning out closer to Jack. "I think I may know this Mr Smith, but I'd like to hear what shiny thing that is first. Maybe it ain't worth it."

"Oh, it's worth it!" Jack exclaimed, and then as if afraid of his outburst quickly stepped back and once again looked around. "But, I'm not allowed to say. Who knows who might overhear it."

The pirate got cleverer as his interest was caught. "Why don't you come inside and tell me, so no one would overhear us," he offered.

Jack pretended to think about it and then smiled widely. "That be a good idea!" he approved and offered his hand enthusiastically.

The pirate pulled him through the window into the room. "So what was it, boy?" he demanded impatiently. The second pirate, not subtly at all, snuck up behind them and was eves dropping.

"Well, I didn't see it exactly," said Jack significantly. The pirate growled, and he hurried to explain. "It was just a plain old bag that the boss had shown me, except that bag sure looked heavy. By the sound of it, I had to be a donkey's ass not to figure that it was filled with gold to the brim."

"Oh, I like you, boy," said the pirate. He put his arm around Jack's shoulders. "You should surely be rewarded for you trouble, you know, for finding this Mr Smith." He pressed a coin into Jack's hand. "But tell me, how do you plan on recognising him once you find him?"

Jack looked with absolute trust at the man after receiving a bribe. "Well, it's a bit of a problem, good Mister, since my boss isn't sure himself what Mr Smith looks like. He's doing a favour to a friend of a friend who asked him to pass that bag to Mr Smith. My boss said that Mr Smith lives around here. He said that he has a tattoo on his right arm. He wears a bandana and a round, gold earring. So, that's what I'm looking for."

"Look no more, boy," the second pirate interfered. "I am Mr Smith!"

"You are?" yelled the first pirate. He was infuriated that he has been beaten to making exactly the same claim.

"I am!" challenged the other. "I have a tattoo and the earring and the bandana. I'm Mr Smith."

"I do too!"

"Gentlemen," said Jack feigning absolute confusion. "My boss was very specific that I must bring only one Mr Smith to him, else he'd get very angry and won't be sharing whatever it is that he's got for him. I must make no mistake. Which one of you is Mr Smith?"

"I am!" yelled both pirates at once. The first pirate drove his fist into his recent buddy's face. The other responded by kicking him in the stomach. They began to fight in earnest.

Ignored by them, Jack slid a knife from his belt and slowly approached the boy. "Listen here," he whispered as he slashed the bonds, "whatever you do, hold onto me, otherwise, I can't guarantee you your life or me mine for that matter." He scoped up the boy and headed for the door, carefully avoiding the pirates who were rolling around the on floor at each other's throats. But his luck did not hold out.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" yelled one of the pirates, noticing his escape. "You're suppose to be taking me to your boss!"

"Shit!" The smarter pirate figured. "He has taken our toy!"

Jack ran.

The pirates chased him down the street yelling, "Come back here you kidnapper!"

The boy in his arms was heavier than he thought he would be, but there was no way for a five year old to outrun two adults. Jack staggered, but didn't leave him. The pirates were gaining on him. "Hold onto my neck," Jack ordered through the clenched teeth. The boy grabbed him, allowing him to free his hands. He saw a narrow gap in the fence and squeezed through it. Then he weaved his way through a narrow maze of junk, trying to shake off the pursuit. His circling must have worked. He stopped, no longer hearing the sound of pursuit. Jack took a deep breath, not entirely trusting the silence. On his tiptoes he moved forward and peeked around the corner. He was roughly grabbed by his collar.

"There you are, yer little liar. We ought to cut your ears off!" The pirate leered. Something hot splashed across Jack's cheek, and with a sudden hiss the pirate dropped him. The pirate staggered back with a curse, holding onto his shoulder. Jack looked up and saw his father. Teague was holding a cutlass in one hand, pressing its tip to the throat of one pirate, and in the other hand he held his pistol aimed directly at the second pirate's forehead.

"Oh, it's you Teague," stammered one of the pirates. He recognised the legendary pirate who was feared even by the Royal Navy. The other pirate looked terrified by the name. He covered from the steel although a moment ago he was contemplating going for his weapon. "And we were just trying to catch someone who robbed us, but you can have him if you want."

"These boys are mine," Teague declared in a loud, authoritarian voice. He was every inch the most feared pirate of the Caribbean. "Any attack on them will be considered the same as an attack on my person. That would be punishable by death. So, how can you be robbed of something that is mine?" He said the last part almost pleasantly which scared the pirates even more. The cutlass in his hand shone menacingly.

"It was our honest mistake, honest. We had too much rum."

"Good, and rum tends to make you imagine things that have never happened. Did they now?"

"Yes. No. Yes?" the pirates hurried to assure him.

"Good, since you haven't seen nothing real and forgot everything unreal that you saw in your drunken state, I guess there's no reason to kill you," Teague told them. "Now scram, you worthless shitbags while I'm in a charitable mood."

Much subdued, the pirates fled stumbling and stammering their apologies. Jack watched them almost in envy. He flinched once his father turned his eyes on him. Surprisingly saying nothing, Teague took the boy from his arms and signalled for Jack to follow him home.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a miserable night for Jack where everything graded his nerves: the moaning of the old house in the wind, the flapping of the bird wings as some took shelter on the roof, the creaking of his bed as he turned over. He had never noticed these things before, but there was a sense of disquiet in his stomach that made them so loud and obvious.

It must have been due to Teague's return. Jack was not used to having his father around. Teague cared about his family in his own way, but he was also highly unpredictable, a man who would have no hesitation in shooting another for the slightest offense without a flinch or a second of regret. It was the silent threat of retribution for losing the boy that had kept Jack on his guard. Then he realised that Teague was not going to punish him. His father had ignored him all day. Teague didn't ask him again to look after the boy either. His actions baffled Jack who was watching him subtly, that is, his father's idleness did. It was rare for Teague to have no pressing matter to attend to. Unless, Jack guessed, this boy was the pressing matter. He didn't see what the big deal was since they've kidnapped and held hostages before, although it was usually in the brig of the _Misty Maiden_ or hidden in some port town; he had never seen them brought to his grandmother. Having such a secretive father forced his son to be highly observant in order to keep up with the events and not to be left duped and possibly dead, but his perceptiveness was currently not working.

Eventually, after much tossing and turning, Jack drifted off into a light sleep, but not for long. He awoke to the sound of muffled sobs. The sobs came from the corner where their 'ransom' was assigned to rest. Jack pulled a pillow over his ears to block it out, but sleep continued to elude him. He rose and stealthily slipped across the room to investigate. There was moonlight streaming through a window. He looked down on the small, curled into a ball form, a guilty feeling for being less than friendly to the boy earlier arising that he tried unsuccessfully to push away. "Hey kid," he called out, trying to keep his voice unthreatening.

The boy jumped in fright and pressed into a corner as far away from Jack as he could.

That didn't discourage Jack. He was a son of a pirate, and pirates were always treated with a blade of steel between supposedly honest men and those who sailed under the black flag, regardless of their intentions. "Don't worry about us. No one here is going to hurt you. My father probably wants to get some ransom off your father, and you can go back to your familiar life in a week or two. It is in our best interests to keep you in as healthy state as not to cause the needless wrath of all the interested parties, and thus to keep our reward. For now, the smell is the scariest thing you'll have to deal with. How is that? Savvy?"

His words, however, caused the boy to bite on his fist and cry even harder.

"Leave him be, son," said Teague, coming up behind him. His voice was grave. "His father doesn't want him. He had refused to pay the life debt, and doesn't want the boy back."

"Who's the charming father of his then?" said Jack. He was taken aback by the news. That had to be a lousy man even by the pirate standards. He knew, as poor parent as Teague had been to himself, his father would never have abandoned him for debts.

"Norrington," Teague informed him. Judging by his father's closed off expression the pirate was suppressing his rage.

"Oiii, I see," Jack muttered. If the boy was of no use to them, he imagined that his father could kill him. Not that Teague ever told him why, but it was obvious that Norrington was his worst enemy. Jack might have seen his share of death, but he never enjoyed the thought or sight of it. He wrecked his brain for an alternative. "I don't suppose there is hope then that his mother will care, being dead and all, that is to influence his father with paying up. What about his other relatives?" His speech was hardly helping with calming the child who was being reminded that his mother was dead and nobody wanted him.

Teague gave his son a light smack on the shoulder to interrupt his well intended but utterly useless speech. "Don't listen to his babbling," Teague addressed James. "Even if being in a company of pirates isn't a good perspective for you, I will never hurt the child of Catherine. I used to know your mother closely, and I used to care about her a lot. So, I won't hurt you, ever."

The child sniffled and rubbed his eyes, but he shot a curious look at Teague that the observant pirate picked up on at once.

"What is it?" Teague prompted.

The child wavered between hope and disbelief. He still was too young to cover his feelings. It was so tempting to ask. He knew so very little about his mother. She died before he had a chance to look at her even once, but he loved the fairy image of her that he had put together in his heart. His father had never spoken about her, and had the paintings of her removed from his house. James had once asked Laurence about his mother. His father had slapped him and sent him to his room. He had never gathered the courage to ask again. Although he was weary of the pirate, he was also overwhelmed by an urge to learn more about his mother. "You were…my mother's friend?" James whispered and flinched as if expecting his fragile hope to be shattered.

Teague smiled, thinking that it was easy to win trust from children, even those who were taught that he was their worst enemy – Captain Teague, the boogeyman of the Caribbean. "Yes, I was her very good friend," he confirmed. "Do you want me to tell you how we became friends?"

The child blinked tears out of his eyes and nodded shyly. "Yes, please." He still expected Teague to trick him and say that he had changed his mind. James rubbed the tip of his nose. Someone held out a handkerchief to him. It was Jack, who was trying to look elsewhere other than at the child. The piece of material was of a questionable cleanness. James, once he saw that the offer remained steadily in front of him, accepted it hesitantly.

Teague watched his son out of the corner of his eye, realising that this story was relevant to him too. Of course he was not going to mention his romantic feelings for the Admiral's wife, but Jack was sure to pick up on them.

"I have met your mother at sea seven years ago," he dived into the narrative, speaking slowly so the child could follow, as the pictures of that time arose vividly in his mind. "My ship was anchored by a small island, making repairs post storm, when we saw a crippled merchant vessel limping along. As we found out later, she became separated from her escort. It was too good an opportunity to miss, and I've ordered our repairs to be cut short. We boarded her cleanly, without much resistance from the crew. However, we did have a casualty when one of the passengers decided that she was not going to submit freely. She shot one of my men dead when he tried errr… when he acted rudely towards her as my crew was pillaging the ship. I'm speaking about your mother, child." The recollection tugged a string in his heart, and Teague's voice became gentler rather than being simply hushed. "Catherine was a compassionate, but never a submissive woman. And she was excellent with the pistols, as we found out that day. Should you live long enough to find this skill in yourself, know that it comes from your mother, James. Your father may know how to handle a sword, but he can't hit a target even if it is as big as an elephant, painted red and glued to his nose."

James gave him a dirty look, and Teague resumed his story, a little miffed that he'd have to hold his tongue and miss an extra free shot at insulting the Admiral. He hated to admit it, but he wanted to win the child over. "My crew demanded retribution for the death of their comrade, but I had no desire to hand her over to them. She was a beautiful, upper class woman who was better to take hostage and demand ransom for. I have taken her aboard my ship along with the other goods that we have secured. Initially, I've put her in the brig, but on the second day she requested to see me and pointed out that she can be helpful around the ship in exchange for better accommodations. I've yielded and never regretted it. Even my fear that she might be harassed by the crew proved unfounded due to her somehow securing weapons on her person and using them when necessary. Our plans to bargain her as a hostage have been interrupted by the side-matters that I had to spend five months on taking care of. We became friends with your mother during the voyage. She was an intelligent woman who surprisingly knew a lot about the sea. Her father was a merchant and a former Captain. He had shared his knowledge of the sea with her. After a few weeks, I've realised that I was stalling in trading her, and hoped to find means to continue our friendship afterwards. It was not meant to be. A Navy vessel attacked us one night. It was your father, not an Admiral yet, who caught my crew unaware. During the fight, your mother broke the cabin's lock where I've been trying to keep her and switched ships. I've noticed that she was missing after our ships broke apart and went different ways to count our loses. Losing her was a heavy blow to me, but I have never held her desire to break free against her, and missed her greatly. She was a good woman."

He didn't confess that he had desperately tried to get his crew to turn the ship, but they were grumbling and threatening mutiny, not wanting to go back to an opponent who could only be beaten at the expense of sinking themselves without any profit in it for them. It was a bitter memory to recollect as he finished his story.

"I went my way and Catherine went her way aboard your father's ship. He must have discovered a new addition to his crew soon enough – I can imagine his face when he did. They must have fallen in love and married, but I'm sure you father told you that part of the story."

The boy shook his head.

Teague regarded him with surprise. "What did he tell you about your mother then? Surely in his stories about her he wouldn't have overlooked such an important event?"

The boy stared down at the bed, fighting his tears again. "Nothing," he whispered at last.

Judging by the child's misery, he was told nothing about his mother. Teague suddenly saw a glimpse of a man who suffered no less than he did at losing the woman he loved, so much so that he couldn't bring himself to talk about her. Finding something they had in common was highly disconcerting, so he twisted it to his satisfaction, thinking that he finally had one up on the Admiral. "Your father should have told you about her," said Teague. "Your mother deserves to be talked about. She deserves to be remembered by her son, and to live on in your heart. She deserves to be remembered by those who love her."

His little inspirational speech had a strong impact on the child. Teague noticed a bit of flame light in his endlessly sad eyes, far more troubled than the eyes of a child his age should have been. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around James and brought him closer to himself. The child tensed at first, but gradually relaxed when no harm came.

Teague spoke softly and lengthily, recalling all details about Catherine: her smile, her kindness, even her bouts of temper. Re-living those events unexpectedly brought him consolidation. In the boy he discovered understanding. Both of them loved the same woman, and Teague saw in the boy's eyes the same aura surrounding Catherine that burned in his heart. Eventually, the boy fell asleep, leaning against Teague.

Teague regarded the sleeping child. In the silver flicker on starlight he saw the reflection of a woman he loved long ago. An insane thought passed through his mind, but regardless of how foolish, it was exactly what he wanted. Catherine might have chosen to leave him, but fate threw her son into his life.

"Jackie," his voice was gruff. He wanted to keep this conversation between the two of them. "We are not holding this one as hostage. I am keeping him with us. He is to be brought up as one of us."

Jack looked at him bewildered, but he didn't dare to argue with his father. "I suppose it's doable, but won't the Admiral put up a reward for the return of his son, or worse comes looking for him himself, if not out of love then at least out of pride?"

Teague let out a mirthless laugh. "I've already paid a few people to misinform the Admiral about my latest whereabouts. The rest of the brethren know better than to sell me out."

Jack had to agree with that logic. "Still, we better keep him out of sight as much as possible until his father abandons the search. It's nobody's business, but if anybody starts wondering, grandmother can say that he is her deceased sister's grandson.

Teague nodded his agreement to the second part, but his opinion differed on the first point. "I must keep the boy with me openly if I am to make him trust us. It will be inconvenient to hide him that long anyway because his father is more stubborn than a shark in pursuit of blood. Go around with him, guard the boy, tell your grandmother's relative story or argue that Admiral's boy wouldn't be following you around willingly, and if they still insist just shoot them. But to minimise the questioning, we have to change his name. We can't call him Norrington else the entire fleet of the Navy birds will be on our doorstep by supper."

"Do you think the boy can be persuaded to change his entire name?" Jack asked doubtfully. Surely, little kiddies could be persuaded to change their mind to something creative, like naming themselves for their heroes, but this one's hero probably had been his father.

Teague didn't want to risk an argument with the child either. He thought about the green eyes that so closely resembled the love of his life. "We will call him James Sea from now on," he decreed. "His old last name shall be forgotten."


	4. Chapter 4

James woke up in an unfamiliar room that was messy and spooky. The lulling motion of the ship that pacified him was gone. His first feeling was to call for his father. Then he remembered that his father didn't like bad little boys who were frightened, and didn't want him for a son because of that. He peeked from the tangle of sheets into a dim room. Part of his view was obscured by a tall man whose back was turned on him. Teague, James remembered. Teague was his mother's friend. The man was still a little scary, so James tried to watch him without drawing attention to himself, but the man was always clever. He sensed that someone was watching him, and figured out that the boy was awake.

"Mr Sea, are you hungry?" he questioned, turning to James.

James was confused. He was sure that Teague was addressing him because the man was looking at him, but why did he call him a wrong name? Teague smiled at him. Teague had a strange way of smiling. His lips hardly moved, but a few wrinkles in the corners of his eyes deepened, and an ironic sparkle would appear in the black depths of his pupils. This smile always confused James. He understood that a smile was to be interpreted as a good sign, but this man always looked like he was hiding something very important that only he knew. His smile was telling the ones he addressed to trust his judgement, making them feel vulnerable at the same time.

"I'm sorry James, it was a habit of mine to call your mother that," Teague volunteered, receiving the boy's undivided attention at once in anything that concerned Catherine. "Your mother had the most beautiful eyes. They were green and full of mystery, just like the waves. I have given her a nickname, Sea."

The boy nodded eagerly. He liked the comparison very much. Teague hunched beside him and put his arm around his shoulders. "You look so much like your mother. Your eyes are the same. I would like to know, would you consider adapting her nickname as your last name?"

James thought it over carefully. Teague waited patiently. Unlike many children of his age, James was trained to be articulate, his father's military school showing itself, but it was still difficult for a youngster to put his feelings into words. Demanding quick answers would lead to nothing with him.

"What about my father's last name?" James asked.

"Your father has given you your first name. Would it not be fair if you have something from both of your parents?"

James hesitated, but the need to be closer to his mother won. "I would like that," he agreed.

"Excellent, Mr James Sea," Teague said, clasping his shoulder. He made a show of making the renaming a special event. "Shall we get some magnificent breakfast to celebrate?"

James nodded eagerly. He was hungry. His captors, as nice as they were, weren't very punctual about any procedures, including meals, and neglected to feed him frequently. It wasn't like his home or his father's ship at all where everything was measured precisely by the minutes. The pirates did what made sense when it made sense without any schedules.

"Wake up that lazy son of mine, and we'll get us a good meal to warm our stomachs," Teague ordered.

"Yes, Sir."

James was a little hesitant. Both Teague and Jack were still strangers to him. He was unsure whether the older boy was going to welcome being awakened, but he didn't contradict what a grown up was telling him to do. Jack was in the next room. James lingered in the doorway, and then approached the sleeping boy cautiously. "Mr Jack?" he called. Getting a little bolder, he repeated the name louder and then yanked Jack's sleeve. "Mr Jack, please wake up."

Jack pulled his hand out of the boy's grasp easily and draped it across his eyes.

"Mr Jack, are you going to wake up?" James asked. A loud snore met his inquiry.

James looked around. His eyes stopped on the bucket that Jack had so graciously shown him how to use the previous day. He filled it up to the brim with water, and with difficulty dragged it over to where Jack was sleeping, spilling half on himself on the way. Biting his lip, he raised the heavy object as high as he could and splashed the remaining content over the sleeping boy, dropping the bucket in the process.

Jack shot up with a yell and jumped to his feet. "What the devil is going on here?" he shouted. He tripped over the bucket and went sprawling on his face. He raised himself on his elbows from the uncomfortable position and brushed aside his long hair strands to find the offender. The so called offender was trying in vain to suppress his giggles. He was both scared that he might have done something naughty, but the sight was very funny.

Jack climbed onto his feet considering how he should deal with the occurrence as to ensure that it doesn't repeat, but James rendered him speechless. "Thank you for waking up, Mr Jack. Your father is asking for you."

"More like looking for you," Teague interrupted from the doorway. "You too, come along, Mr Sea. Our breakfast is waiting." He held out his hand for the younger boy, who went to take it obediently.

Jack was alert in an instant, checking that he still had his weapons. When the scourge of the seas called, everyone came running to answer those summons. Teague headed outside, fully expecting to be obeyed.

Jack followed in the wake of his father grumbling under his nose. Since when did Teague decide to have family meals? As far as the old pirate was concerned, there was no need for fuss with the ceremonies. One was responsible for filling his own gut when the gut requested, that didn't coincide with anyone else's gut.

Teague was holding onto James' hand tight. He only picked him up and carried him in a few places where the violence was breaking out. Otherwise, Teague seemed to have adapted an opinion that the sooner James got used to the chaotic atmosphere of the island the better.

They made it through a maze of narrow, muddy streets to the respectable part of the town where traders and merchants were keeping their businesses open. The street was much wider than the rest, occupied by the combined residences. The shopkeepers were setting up their wares outside on the street level. They lived on the second storeys of the same buildings.

Teague stopped at a shop with a dark-green yarning. There was a stall with kiwis and mangos out in the open, and a smaller one with freshly baked bread. A plump woman kept vigil in the shade of the yarning, energetically waving the flies away.

"Good morning, Senhora Alvaro, is your husband home?" Teague inquired.

It wasn't the first time that Teague had dealings with her husband. The woman didn't seem to approve of him, but not enough to protest his coming. She gave him the same energetic wave with her rag as she did to the flies in the direction of the open door. "Right inside, Senhor Teague."

"Watch the boy," Teague threw over his shoulder to Jack, quickly disappearing inside the shop. He clearly intended to keep his conversation with Senhor Alvaro a secret.

"Right," Jack mumbled and was instantly alerted to a minor crash. The kiwis went bouncing along the ground. The stand went crooked. James stood in the middle of it with the guiltiest look.

Mrs Alvaro swore in Portuguese. With her hands on the hips she glared down at the boy fiery. "Little hooligan!" she howled in English seeing that she wasn't understood. "It's bad enough that someone always tries to steal something, but to knock the stand over is even worse!"

"I'm very sorry, Madam, I'm very sorry," James stuttered. He regarded the woman with absolutely huge eyes and sincerity that was impossible to fake. He thought he was in big trouble. He was told repeatedly to be mindful of his surroundings. Breaking things that belonged to others was very rude indeed and caused an embarrassment to his family. "I didn't mean to. I'll pick them all up." He took a step back cowering from her wrath.

He looked pitiful enough that Mrs Alvaro huffed irritably and throwing her hands up dismissed him with an indignant shrug. The stand needed fixing before she could rebuild the pyramid of fruits. She straightened it and made sure it was stable. Jack, who tried to become invisible while the scene unfolded, let out the breath he was holding. James was on his knees gathering the fruits. Once he could hold no more, he handed them over to Mrs Alvaro and went back to picking up the rest. The woman regarded him in puzzlement, not having expected the child to follow through with the task with so much persistence.

"Thank you," she said when the boy brought more kiwis to her.

"You are welcome, Madam," he replied as he was taught, but didn't understand what he was thanked for, and looked up at her in confusion. "You are not angry with me anymore?" He wanted to know how much punishment to expect. The woman stopped yelling and thanked him, so maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

To Jack, watching from the sideline, the child looked far too cute and heart wrenching with a sad puppy look. The woman didn't stand a chance at holding on to her righteous anger.

"You certainly deserve a good scolding," said Mrs Alvaro, but without any bite. She was starting to feel bad that the child was cowering from her. "Be careful the next time; otherwise, scary, old ladies are going to have to yell at you."

"You aren't scary, Miss. You are very nice, and pretty," James assured her. He overheard once an adult conversation where his father's friend claimed that all women should be treated with respect and assured that they make a pleasant company to get on their good side. He didn't understand the part about getting on their good side, but everyone seemed to agree that saying something nice to them was important.

Jack only grinned from his observational point. That compliment was enough to turn James from the 'little hooligan' into the 'sweetheart'. He hovered near, not interrupting the exchange with the shopkeeper, but ready to interfere in case James blurted out anything about the Navy or his former home. It was good enough that the child was occupied and didn't cause any further damage.

Jack excused himself and pulled James away from the woman when Teague emerged from the shop and strolled away with the wide strides, only giving Jack one flicker of his wrist to indicate that they were still going together.

They followed Teague to a tavern located on the same street. It was a relatively neat place where the tables were covered with checker-patterned red and white cloths. The waitress eyed the strangers who looked distinctly rugged and untrustworthy wearily, but overcame her reservations and broke into smiles when she saw James. She was at her friendliest as she took their orders. She made a big fuss to find out exactly what James wanted. Teague observed her with absolute neutrality, but Jack sensed that his father was waiting impatiently for the woman to leave.

"James, I've changed my mind. I would like chicken instead of fish. Would you mind following the nice lady and telling her that?" Teague requested as soon as he was sure that their waitress had gone to the kitchen. "Can you remember it accurately?"

"Yes, Sir. You want to order chicken instead of fish," James repeated. He slid out of his tall chair. Teague pointed out the direction to him.

Jack put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, sure that Teague had sent the boy away on purpose. The kitchen door softly clicked shut. Teague leaned backwards in his chair to observe it, but his attention was on Jack.

"Not that your grandmother had never gone away on her business and been missing for weeks before, Jackie, but I find it odd that she hasn't appeared yet." Teague kept his voice low, just enough for his son to hear him. "I was informed that she isn't on Aruba. I'll be gone to investigate in three days if she doesn't show up."

Jack kept silent. He knew that this wasn't the reason why Teague had sent James away. Teague interpreted a silent question. He was proud that his son was a quick thinker who avoided unnecessary questions.

"I'll be waiting for her as long as I can to ask her personally about the boy, but I have to go regardless. The Admiral will not be fooled for long by my disinformation. He is looking for his son. I need to stay away from Aruba, and I cannot take James with me. You have to watch him while I'm gone. If you run into any trouble with the boy, go with him to the shop we have visited today. I've paid Mr Alvaro handsomely to help you out if anything goes wrong. Also, don't steal from him. He is an honest merchant. I've known him for ten years. He and his wife have been very useful to me. I intend to sustain a good relationship with them."

Jack was stumped as how to express his utter horror at the notion. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with the boy. He never looked after anything with the exception of his knife. At least he was interested in his knife, but certainly not in children. "Father," he tried, wondering how he can phrase the rejection without making it a rejection and thus not making his father angry. "James is certainly nice enough, but I don't know anything about kids."

Teague smiled the all knowing smile, and Jack realised that there will be no further argument.

"Don't worry, Jackie, neither did I when your mother went to Heaven and thus left you in my care. You'll manage."

Jack gulped.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews. Glad to see others share my opinion that Jack and James as brothers is lovable. XD I promise to make Jack try to be a good older brother, although he is doing his best to dodge that responsibility.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

_What children learn depends on their teacher. Teach them well and they will return it tenfold, teach them poorly and it will mark your own undoing with no one to blame but yourself._

So Teague had told his son two weeks ago. Jack wished that he had taken that advice to heart. Granted, all the creative ideas James had picked up on have been initiated by Jack himself, but how was he suppose to know that the child would interpret his actions that way when Jack had intended to use them for the entirely different purposes. So far today he had discovered a mouse trap in his boot and had his red bandana was nearly washed away into the sewer. Had the child not been so intimidated with the notion of causing mischief, Jack would have thought that James was doing it on purpose. Granted, most of the troublemaking came due to misunderstandings. For instance, a week ago Jack had left home for three days. It was his big secret. He had been saving up for a sailboat that he finally had a chance to bargain for. The business took him away from home. When he returned, the first thing he encountered was a waterfall as soon as he opened the door. How the boy had managed to lift the bucket so high was a mystery to him, although Jack had every appreciation for the trap that was intended to keep the house safer.

For the most part, Jack thought that James was a smart kid who could figure out what to do on his own. Ignoring him was best. James probably didn't like the company of pirates, so the less he bothered the child, the more comfortable he must have felt. And it was much better for Jack as well since he didn't know how to interact with James. Whenever the child approached him, Jack told him that he was very busy and asked him to entertain himself. James always followed the commands, but then the incidents happened. Jack had his grandmother when he was little, and he was never close to his father, thus it never occurred to him that the child might want attention. He understood well enough the part to protect him, but any other needs were a bother to him. Jack was very cautious with the child, and tried to stay out of James' sight.

Presently, the green-eyed menace was sitting in the corner bent over Teague's old sea maps with an angelic look. Jack tiptoed around him as not to disturb him. Sometimes, when James forgot about his surroundings, his face took on a highly concentrated expression, far too serious for a boy his age. James seemed to have accepted the fact that these strangers had taken him in and was quickly adjusting to his environment, although he was still keeping a respectful distance from Jack. He had never mentioned his father again. Sometimes, before Teague had left, if the pirate was in the mood for it, the two of them talked about his mother. Jack noticed his father's attachment to the boy, but he had to admit that he lacked insight into the child's mind. Jack, who thought he could read people well, frequently wondered what the child was thinking. James had learned to hide many of his negative feelings early. No one knew what lay in the depths on his green eyes. The corners of his mouth twisted into a tight, impenetrable line as he stood over the maps. Unkempt, brown hair kept falling into his eyes, and he kept brushing them back impatiently. What did he hope to find by looking at the faded markings, his home or perhaps he was having one of those romantic childhood dreams?

Loud banging interrupted his observations. Someone was making big racket out at front gate. It couldn't have been his family who knew how to unlock it. It was someone big, loud and obnoxious. Jack slid his knife info his belt before hurrying outside. Whoever it was didn't have a lot of patience.

"Damn and blast, a man can sail to China and back before you let a visitor in!" roared a large man as Jack opened the door a crack. His head was round like a cannon ball attached to a wide rectangle that was the rest of his body, with two long, hairy arms that moved non stop. He shoved the gate fully open with Jack still clinging onto it and crossed the yard, heading for the house. "I don't get Teague, first he finds me and threatens to put a hole in my skull if I fail to bring him the maps and then never shows up to get them."

"You must be Antonio. Father had told me about your bargain," Jack guessed. He wanted to get the deal done quickly as to get the man who already spat twice on the ground out of his house, but it appeared that Antonio in some matters insisted on ceremony. His boots thundered across the floor boards that bent under his weight. He barged into the kitchen, as he deemed it the best place to discuss their business wholesomely, and pulled up a chair. Jack noticed that James was peeking into the kitchen and made shooing gestures for the child to go away.

"I could use some washing up," Antonio hinted.

Jack found an old bottle that had some stuff at the bottom. The pirate wasn't too picky with drink, but only objected to the small quantity of it. He pulled the cork with his teeth and swallowed the content in one gulp.

"The Admiralty maps," he bragged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Teague should be pleased. It shows the vessels assigned to each port along the coast. You can calculate their patrol routes by it."

"My father appreciates full well the trouble you've gone through to obtain them," Jack assured him. He found a much better drink for his guest. He turned around and nearly dropped the booze. Antonio couldn't hear over the sound of himself that someone was behind him. Before Jack could utter a word, his guest was drenched. The wide brim of his hat dropped onto his nose.

"Arrgh!" the pirate yelled. He pulled his cutlass and pistol out and shook them in the air, knocking down the chair. "Who dares!" James was out of his line of sight at first as the pirate was looking around rather than down. At last he noticed the cause of the problem and glared down balefully at the child who still held the bucket. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You said that you wanted to wash up, Sir. I simply wanted to help," James said modestly.

Antonio sputtered. "Just who the devil are you?"

"Ignore him, my friend," said Jack, inserting himself between James and Antonio. He pressed a large jug of rum into Antonio's chest, thus forcing his visitor to put away his weapons to accept it. "He's a grandson of a sister of a grandmother of mine. I'm afraid he doesn't understand climatic figures of speech."

"Huh?" said the pirate.

"Never you mind." Jack picked up the chair and added a bottle of rum in front of him, which was enough to pacify the visitor. Antonio wasn't mean spirited. He let it go as Jack diverted the conversation to the reward. He was clearly swayed by Jack's eloquence in their short chat.

Jack made two steps to the left like a magician. He opened one of the multiple kitchen drawers and quickly slammed it shut. There was a loud, metal bang. Jack re-opened the door. There was an iron bar set across the narrow drawer space. Had Jack tried to reach into the drawer, the bar would have hit him and possibly broken his wrist. Jack grabbed a heavy purse that was behind the bar and reset the trap.

The pirate smiled his full mouth of golden teeth. "I take it you have the payment," Antonio summarised. He put his arm into his shirt and scratched his armpit. Then, he leisurely reached into his wide pocket and produced a bundle wrapped in a cloth. They tossed the items to each other. Antonio checked the quality of some of the coins inside the bag, though avoiding any accusations of a scam. Even if Teague was not present, he preferred not to risk it. He finished his rum, and to Jack's relief was soon gone. Though, had his father been home, Antonio might have stayed hours discussing the local gossip.

Jack might have been busy with Antonio, but he sensed throughout their conversation that James was subtly observing them. Although James had given an innocent enough explanation, Jack sensed an ulterior motif. It was one thing that the kid was drenching him wet, but completely another to drench strangers who valued the lives of others less than a small coin. The Admiral was a very strict man, judging by how uptight James was about misbehaviour, yet he was still daring to upend buckets of water on others. Something was off that needed investigating.

As he approached, James stopped playing with the charts and looked at him attentively. Jack wondered how to persuade the boy to stop the mischief without sounding like an old nun from a holy convent.

"You know, kid, discipline and good manners might not be practiced among us pirates. But, there is such a thing as stupid actions and clever actions. It is an unwritten etiquette that will decide your life or death. And provoking someone who is much stronger than you are is considered a stupid action. Since you don't appear to be stupid to me, I want to know why you've given our visitor a bath."

"He smelled," said James like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jack snorted. He agreed. Part of him was almost jealous that he was no longer allowed to do such a thing, although drenching Antonio was highly tempting. Jack decided that having the youngster around might be more fun than he thought. "Don't suppose you don't smell funny after living with me. It's all about the perspective, mate."

James looked at him fiercely, not liking to be considered dirty. But it didn't take him long to find the solution. "Okay, I will wash," he announced.

"Again? What's with all that scrubbing? You'd think there are plenty of other ways to irritate your skin," Jack muttered in amusement. James, ever since he overcame his reservation with Teague, had insisted on keeping himself clean. He was punctual in the matter, unless they were out in the town and couldn't make it home. The child didn't really know how to draw baths, but it was always hot on Tortuga, thus a few buckets of cold water were bearable. Jack never interfered with the ritual, but didn't offer help either. Wasn't washing once a month more than enough? When they were out at sea, they didn't bath at all far longer due to the shortage of water.

"Jack?"

The child had that look about him when he was going to ask a difficult question that Jack never liked. "You have all my attention," he assured, nonetheless.

"Why did you make up a story about me being your grandmother's…umm…someone? I'm not sure what it is, but I am not it."

Blast. Jack wished his father was there to answer the question. He knew how to trick James into accepting a new name, so he could have convinced him to never mention his father before leaving.

Jack sat down cross-leg and beckoned the child to join him. He noticed his father always tried to be on the same eye level with the child whenever the conversation grew serious. "You are the Admiral's son, even if you no longer live with him. As you understand, your father's mission is to hang pirates. Men like Antonio who are hunted by the Royal Navy have little reason to like it, since it is trying to take away from him the only thing he has, his life. We are on warring sides. So, if he found out that you are a relation to the Admiral, he might kill you." Jack caught the child's eyes, and looked into them, trying to judge whether James understood. "Do you understand life and death?"

"I do," James replied softly. He had seen death on his father's ship. It was gory. He had learned about the emotional impact of death because he never knew his mother. Jack's eyes were very deep and dark, much like Teague's, sharing the same convincing ability – knowledge and the unspoken request to trust him.

"We cannot tell others that the Admiral is your father, nor can you for your own safety. You can talk to me and to Teague, but never talk about your father or your former home with any other person. They may hurt you or tell someone who might want to hurt you. Do you understand?"

James nodded slowly, but his eyes were sad and thoughtful. It was tempting to solidify his win and extract the promise from James to never mention his father again, but Jack didn't want to draw anymore attention to this matter. The root of the question was why had Jack told a lie. If James thought more about it, he would go back to his original question. He viewed lies as a bad thing. Children had that about them. Their world was black and white, and everything in it was either bad or good. Convincing him that lies were good was currently impossible. Jack couldn't handle so many moral dilemmas at once.

"Now, tell me something," he steered the conversation back to the original topic. "Granted, that man stank even by pirate measure, but it's not like you to behave most unfavourably. You must have sensed that he meant something else by 'washing up.'"

James ducked his head. Discipline prevented him from running away, but he fidgeted in an uncomfortable silence. He behaved thus whenever he didn't or couldn't answer a difficult question. Jack simply waited, not letting him off the hook.

"It is funny, and then you are a little annoyed at me, and you talk to me. I like when you talk to me, even if I don't always understand you," James confessed at last.

Jack stared at him, and then broke into a grin. "Are you saying here that you like my company?"

James nodded a little shyly. "It is spooky when you aren't home," he explained.

"So let me get this right, you want my company because you don't like being alone due to the house being spooky, and for the lack of anyone else being able to keep you company, I am your choice?"

"I like you," James confessed. He looked at Jack pleadingly. "Can I go with you next time you need to leave the house?"

Jack hesitated. It was dangerous. The boy would slow him down. But, pretending that James wasn't there wasn't going to work either. "Very well. You will stop giving me morning showers, and take hints from me on whom you can and can't prank. In exchange, I'll be taking you with me around the island. Is that a deal?"

James accepted the offer with a word of honour gravity, and they shook hands.

"Deal, Mr Jack."


	6. Chapter 6

The sharp ends of the dividers sparkled dully as they zigzagged across the map, guided by Jack. The first point of reference was two rhumbs off the Southern Cross. It had to be, unless the symbol that looked like a cross didn't represent the constellation. That was unlikely, considering the lack of imagination that went into the cryptic pirate-made maps. If he charted two more points, they would form a triangle. At the centre of the triangle would be… he didn't know what, but if he had to guess…"

"Jack? I will I be staying with your family long?"

Jack winced at the interruption. "I suppose so," he replied absent-mindedly, doing his best to maintain his concentration. He was trying to figure out the marking on a funny map that he had borrowed from his father's personal effects. "Unless Teague changes his mind, which he can, but otherwise it will be long."

"Oh," said James. "Is there anything I need to do then?"

"Do?" Jack murmured. There was a piece not matching with any other piece that was giving him trouble. How did his father read this weird map?

"My lessons," James explained. "When I was staying at home, my tutor was teaching me how to read and write and count."

"Bugger," Jack muttered. "We don't have tutors here."

"Yes, but you are reading and counting right now," James pointed out.

Jack bid farewell to his riddle solving mood. The markings on the map stopped making any sense with James pestering him.

"Teaching is a complicated art which is complicated by the art of liking to teach, which cannot be done without the proper schooling and qualifications without a teacher of my own to test me on the art of teaching before I become qualified to teach. Thus, unqualified person such as me cannot be qualified to teach you."

James tried hard to follow, but what Jack was saying was too long. "But can you teach me?" he repeated. "I don't want to be illi…tele…ate?"

"Illiterate?"

"What does illiti-ate mean?"

"Bugger," Jack muttered again. "Why would you use a word bigger than you are that you don't understand? It means you cannot read or write. Where did you learn a long word like that?"

"My tutor kept calling me that whenever I made mistakes. I like more to be called that because then he didn't hit me with a ruler."

"I'm surprised that you want to learn anything after that," Jack muttered darkly. He suddenly wanted to whack that man with a ruler or a good ten feet pole. "Listen, you were forced to take those lessons. But, that was in your old life. Pirates don't need no education. The only lessons we should learn are the ones life is teaching us. You are a pirate now. You don't have to put up with no one hitting you with a ruler or calling you names. You can do whatever you want. Understand?"

James considered it seriously. He always considered everything with an air of gravity. He nodded at last. "Yes," he confirmed.

"Good," said Jack, trying to return to the map, but James inserted his face between him and the map.

"I want to learn how to read!" James informed him.

"Bugger!"

James was looking at him expectantly.

"Maybe later?" Jack tried. "You are too young to worry about it yet."

"I am already six years old," James said proudly.

"Five. It's naughty to lie."

"I do not lie!" James exclaimed, terribly offended. "It is my birthday! That makes me six!"

"Birthday!" Jack exclaimed, rather troubled by an expression that looked like an upcoming temper tantrum. He hadn't yet witnessed one by James, but truly didn't want to. "I love birthdays! We should go out and buy things that you will be using to practice reading and writing."

James' face brightened. "Yes, please!"

Jack's preparation didn't take long; just his hiding the map and getting his knife. Money, he was going to get on the way. He didn't want to take any of his own in case someone would steal it. James didn't require any preparation. He simply took off, light-footed as a feather, trailing after his older companion.

"We're going to the southern end of the town," Jack informed him. Only the merchant district had the items they needed. Other places weren't able to maintain a business by selling quills, ink and paper. "Try to remember the way. You should know how to return home in case I lose you.

"I will try," James promised. He stopped calling Jack 'Mister' at Jack's request. It was awkward to be addressed such. It made Jack feel like he was an uncle from a proper English family.

"Try to understand where you are no matter where you are, and know how you can get back to where you want to be. That's one rule, and I have another. Remember, this is one of the most important survival rules: always be mindful of your surroundings. Every place has doors and windows, and the outdoors has trees and rocks and many objects you can hide behind. They may not look important at first glance, but they become vital to your survival. You never know when you might run into your enemies, mind you we have a lot, and it's best to be aware of all these things around you to make them useful in danger."

The weather was good. Jack, once he forgot about the maps, felt like chatting. He lectured James, who was always a grateful listener, feeling rather important about his worldly experience.

Unnoticed by him, two pirates were following them.

"Hey Todd," hissed one of them, keeping a step behind his companion as if that could hide him from view, "they're Teague's. Let's not go after them. He'll take our guts out, wrap them around our necks and hand us on them."

"Shuddap, Trent. That whelp made fools of us. I'm gonna choke him until he starts spitting out the gold he had promised us."

"But Teague…"

"isn't here. I saw his ship sail away over three weeks ago, and it never came back."

"What about when he comes back? What if he wasn't on it at all?"

"Don't be stupid. Why would the captain not be aboard his ship?"

"Why?"

"Just shuddap and wait for the street to be empty. We don't want nobody seeing us."

The pirates were in luck. The boys reached the merchant district during the lunch time. Many shop owners were indoors, enjoying their break. The pirates significantly decreased the distance to their victims. When no one was looking, Todd lunged. He grabbed Jack and dragged him behind some stand by a shop with a dark-green yarning.

"Is your father still around?" he asked. He was gleeful at the boy's evident surprise. He didn't think Teague was around, but it didn't hurt to be sure.

"It's a relative thing being around," said Jack. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw that the other pirate was having no luck with catching James. The narrow space between the boxes was easier for a child to navigate than for a clumsy, drunk man. "My father has an unmatched quality to appear everywhere and out of nowhere, even if you were thinking that he was on the other side of the ocean. It's all about the rumours, you know."

"Haha, you think you're so clever. We're going to teach you a lesson while he isn't here." Todd swung his fist, aiming at Jack's nose. Jack ducked around him. The second pirate, having given up on catching James, joined the beating.

"Don't touch him, you big bullies!" James yelled. He kicked one of the pirates in the shin.

The pirate howled in pain. He grabbed James by his hair and lifted him up. James shrieked.

A heavy frying pan crushed on top of Todd's head. "Bandits! Robbers! Molesters! Help!" bellowed a woman. She came out to investigate the source of the commotion and saw the already familiar boys in trouble. She charged, armed with determination and her favourite cooking utensil. Her yelling was as loud as a fire alarm.

Senhora Alvaro was hitting the pirates without any specific aim, but quickly and plentifully. Jack grabbed a nearby broom and began hitting the pirates too while shouting obscenities. The pirates kept fumbling with their weapons, unable to unsheathe them. A few passers by began to gather into a small crowd. Some of them snickered. The pirates figured that this wasn't favourable and ran.

"And don't let me catch you harassing children again!" the woman yelled at the retreating pair. The crowd laughed and began to disperse because the spectacle was over.

Senhora Alvaro saw James rubbing his elbow and leaned over him. "Aww, did they scare you, sweetling?" She tisked sympathetically, helping the child up.

James shook his head, although there were tears at the tips of his eyelashes. "No," he insisted. "I'm not scared of bad men."

"Of course you shouldn't be," Alvaro agreed. She brushed some dirt off his cheek. "You were very brave. I have a reward for you. Would you like some honey pastries?"

James hesitated. "What are honey pastries?"

"Kid! How can you not know what honey pastries are?" Jack exclaimed. He was starting to hope that that offer applied to him too or maybe he could nip a bite out of James' pastry. "They're the best deserts ever."

"Oh. But father said that those are bad to eat because they will ruin my teeth."

"Dearest, your father is too harsh. I think he should let you try those and allow you to prove your character and decide whether you want them or not. A few pastries never hurt."

James looked at Jack for permission. His father told him to never accept candy from strangers when he was alone, but he had Jack with him. "Can we, please?"

"I don't see how that could hurt."

Senhora Alvaro escorted them into her kitchen. She gestured them to sit down while she made tea. Children were rare on Aruba, and those who were there weren't innocent at all. They were messy and rude, and frequently stealing. Her maternal instincts took over. She wanted to cuddle the little one. He was far too reserved, but underneath very sweet, good natured and a little mischievous like all little boys should be.

James sat down. His nose was barely above the table. Jack laughed at him. "Short cakes," he grinned.

James regarded him indignantly. "I am not short, I am small!"

"Either way you can't see above the table."

"I can too!"

"Well, your mouth isn't above it, so you won't be able to eat. Only those who have a mouth above the table are allowed to eat pastries."

James looked upset that he won't be allowed any honey pastries. He took the matter seriously.

"What kind older brother teases his younger one like that? You won't be allowed any," Senhora Alvaro scolded Jack, coming back with a plate full of delicacies and a tea pot that was still warm.

Jack pouted. He tried to sneak a pasty off the plate, and Senhora Alvaro smacked his hand with a wooden spoon, having lots of experience in protecting her shop goods from numerous street thieves. She gave the spoon to James.

"Let me get a taller chair and a pillow for you, sweetling, and make sure your brother doesn't eat any pastries." She petted James on the head and gave Jack the 'don't touch the sweets' glare. Jack tried to snatch one as soon as she turned away. James whacked him with the spoon.

"Some brother you are," Jack said sulkily.

"You get what you deserve," Alvaro told him, matter-of-fact. She set a plate and a cup in front of James and picked out the best pastry for him.

"Give it a try," she commanded.

James nibbled a small bit timidly. His eyes went wide. "I like them!" He took a much larger bite. "You make very tasty food, Madam."

"Call me Janet. Madam makes me feel awfully old."

James smiled at her more sweetly than all the pastries put together. "Thank you Miss Janet."

Jack rolled his eyes. How did that boy know how to have a way with ladies? This one was entirely won over by him. Janet was looking at James with complete adoration.

"Can you tell me your names?"

James had enough tact to swallow and push the pastry away. "My name is James."

"He is James Sea," Jack interrupted quickly, worried that James might blurt the wrong name out. "He is my grandmother's sister's grandson. And my name is Jack."

"Don't interrupt," Janet scolded, "Your brother is old enough to answer for himself." She added another pastry to James' plate and poured tea into his cup.

"Tell me what you have been doing, James. Do you study?"

"I would like to learn how to read," James said brightly, and then pointed at Jack accusingly. "But Jack doesn't want to teach me."

"Oh dear, how irresponsible. I know somewhat decent about reading and writing. My husband is a good businessman, but he has no head for scholarly subjects. So, I'm keeping all the accounting books. If your brother doesn't teach you, I can help you."

James smiled brightly. "I would like that very much, Janet!"

"Great!" Jack applauded. "I'll bring him over any time you want him!" He finally snatched a pastry and took a big bite out of it.

Janet scolded him some more. She was fond of lecturing, but otherwise Jack found her to be amiable. The woman was talkative. She told them a story how she married her husband and followed him from Portugal to Aruba. By the end of their conversation Jack had weaseled into her good graces too, whereas James grew quiet. James' hands and face were sticky. He looked stuffed and drowsy. He ate five pastries. His eyes kept closing.

"Somebody needs a nap." Janet wiped the sticky mess off him with a napkin. James blinked at her owlishly and mumbled. He was exhausted.

"Do you live far?" she questioned Jack.

"Err, kinda, not really." Jack didn't want to give away a place where he lived, although his father did make an arrangement with this family to keep an eye on them.

"I think it's best if I keep him here until he wakes up, unless you prefer to carry him home. A couple of hours should do."

"I guess so," Jack muttered. He didn't know what those two pirates were up to, so he didn't want to be out with James when the child was sleeping.

"Then I'll take care of him," Janet smiled. She carried James into her bedroom. She removed his shirt and shoes. James snuggled into fluffy, fresh sheets and was fully asleep at once as she tucked him in. She kissed his soft cheek.

Jack lingered. He didn't know what he was supposed to do now. Wait for James to wake up?

"You are free to go outside and play. I'm sure you will cherish a bit of time on your own," Janet told at Jack. He might have been older, but still a boy.

Jack cast an uncertain glace at James. The child looked perfectly comfortable. He didn't think Janet was dangerous. "Thank you. I will come back for him soon."

Janet chuckled. "You won't, but go anyway."

With a wide grin, Jack set off to find his own adventures. Perhaps this child caring business wasn't so bad. However, he still wished that his father had taken responsibility. But Teague was away, the sea dominating his soul ever stronger than any people. Jack wondered how long it would take for him to escape from the Admiral and return home.


	7. Chapter 7

Teague came back a month later, haggard and worn. Hard lines were edged onto his face, every wrinkle deeper than ever. He strolled past Jack without a greeting and rampaged through the house until he found a rum stash in the unlit kitchen.

James intuitively sensed that something was wrong and got out of the way, hiding in the remote corner just as a gust of wind rattled the windows and bent the trees outside. A lumpy cloud blocked the moon, making the world even darker.

Teague slumped into the nearest chair, and without bothering with a glass took several big gulps from the bottle.

"Jackie," he barked at the teenager who was lingering in the next room, keeping an eye on his father.

Jack approached, but kept a safe distance between them across the table.

"I found your grandmother," Teague informed him.

Jack didn't rejoice. A lump of anticipation formed in his throat.

"But someone else had found her before I did."

Teague had the ability to intimidate others merely by standing beside them. He was grim and frightening as he sat slumped in the chair with gloom rolling off him in waves, his silence as bad as his words. It had to be their enemies who have gained the upper hand in this battle, judging by how his father had half-closed his eyes with the shadows of things he had seen lurking below a thin layer of his self-control. He must have been thinking through everything again, wondering what he could have done differently. Usually, only one man tested him that much.

"The Admiral?" Jack broke the brooding silence.

"I don't believe so. He'd be more careful with his son as my hostage. But, one Crown dog is as good as another. The Royal Navy had caught her. No one was able to tell me what they wanted from her because the Captain had interrogated her privately. I haven't been able to get to him to find out, but I can guess what he wanted. Me. Not many knew that we were related. I suppose, someone might have sold us out. That secret had earned the Navy nothing, I'm sure. Otherwise, we would have already seen the consequences. They've failed to get that information from her." In an ominous silence he took another gulp. The rum trickled down his chin, and he savagely wiped it away. "I found her hanging, high up. The ship was docked where everyone could see her, right there on the main mast."

Jack slumped into a chair across his father.

Teague flicked away his bottle and grabbed another. He slammed a glass down in front of stunned Jack. "Have a drink, son," he muttered, pouring an over the top share. "I think you are old enough for a taste of that which numbs your defeat."

Jack took a big gulp. It didn't go down well, but he gritted his teeth and took another gulp. The drink was bitter, but not as bitter as he was.

"When I uncover whoever had sold her out, they will have hell to pay," Teague promised darkly.

It wouldn't bring her back, Jack thought. A few more gulps of rum created a strange floating sensation. His grandmother's face appeared through the mist of his memories. She wasn't pretty, with the years of piracy more so corrupting her formerly unremarkable features. She had been a woman from a lower class family of honest shoemakers. She wasn't pretty, and she wasn't wealthy. Thus, she had been seduced by the first man who had paid courtly attention to her – a pirate. She had left her home and family for him. She was doing her best to remain good and proper, although the lifestyle was eating away into her principles until few were left. She was also the one who shot her husband twenty years later when he became a wife beater. She cursed, she used weapons like they were meaningless toys, and she regarded the rest of the world that had never liked her with the outmost hostility, but one part of her former principles remained with her to the end of her life. She was good to her son and then to her grandson. Strange as it was, her little thread of humanity had been giving Jack hope that he had it in him too, even if he had lived his entire life as a pirate; somewhere deep within there was a bit that perhaps could have left a different path in life open to him. His grandmother loved him, cared for him when he was sick, and protected him from bandits when he was little. Now, she was dead.

Occupied by their unhappy thoughts, father and son drank in silence until Jack could drink no more. His father's presence was too depressing to stay with him any longer. Jack dragged himself up from the chair, mostly by the strength of his arms. He pushed himself away from the table and staggered towards the wall. He followed along it out of the kitchen towards his bed. He couldn't maintain vertical position any longer. He sprawled on the bed and closed his eyes, but the spinning sensation didn't go away and sleep eluded him. His head throbbed dully. The consumed rum created a muted vortex in his mind.

Something small and warm crept across his bed and curled up by his side. A little hand reached out to caress his face. "Jack?" James climbed on top of him and wrapped his arms around his neck. "I'm sorry your grandmother died," he whispered. Jack couldn't formulate a reply, but James didn't need it. He stayed by Jack's side, petting his head. Jack wondered where the child had learned how to express his compassion when he surely had no one in his life to show him how it was to be done. Yet, he was soothed by the offered comfort.

James almost succeeded in making him fall asleep, when the floor boards creaked mournfully. He heard footsteps, grim and heavy, coming towards them. Jack lifted himself up on his elbows as his father loomed above them.

"Come with me, James," Teague ordered. He was swaying under the influence of alcohol. Hard lines were set in the corners of his mouth. Jack recognised the deceptively calm tone. Teague was less dangerous when he was spitting out threats and raging. It meant that he preferred to give a warning or to negotiate rather than kill. He took lives when he was perfectly calm, without giving his target the slightest suspicion, so it wouldn't survive.

With difficulty Jack pushed himself upwards, ready to protest, but Teague grabbed his arm painfully. Jack blinked away tears from the bone-breaking hold. Teague silenced him without saying a word, and yanked him down into place. James left his side to follow Teague. The room swayed when Jack tried to get up to go after them.

Teague led James through an eerie silent house. They paused on the doorstep. The yard was covered in black shadows with the stars bearing down far above, cold and distant like death.

"Slowly, walk ahead of me," Teague ordered.

James obeyed. Teague didn't want to see his face, Catherine's face. The back of the child's head presented an easy target. He won't suffer. He has earned it; a wolfling who will grow up to be a wolf, just like his father. Teague's fingers were trembling from the force with which he was grasping the handle of his pistol. Dogs, who thought they were so honourable, yet more so despicable whenever they made deals, but didn't hold their end of the bargain. All of them thought they were above the pirates. Not one would consider him to be capable of following up on an agreement, which served as an excuse to be thankless and do as they wished, just like Lawrence who never thanked him for saving his son. He shouldn't be hesitating. _Do it. It will send the message to the world that Captain Teague is not a man to cross. Your mother deserves to be avenged._

"Mr Teague?" a soft voice that was still filled with purity crossed the darkness. James sensed that the man was no longer following him. The night-shrouded yard ahead was intimidating. He turned around, seeking reassurance. "I always wanted to tell you, but you were too scary to address. You have saved me when I was drowning. Thank you."

Teague released his hold on the pistol. His hand fell limply by his side. "Don't mention it," he said hoarsely.


	8. Chapter 8

Note: Ahoy, me mateys! 'tis be th' official speak like a scurvy pirate week. Leave ye landlubber, shark-chumin' lexicon overboard, 'n post ye reviews to 'tis chapter in pirate speak only. Take yer tankard an' start shoutin' Jolly Roger, fer this one chapter 's dedicated to the day!

Warning: Swears. =P

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

It was a hot day. So hot that even the flies of the wall refused to buzz. It was certainly too hot to be doing anything productive. In the boredom filled circumstances, that is, for the lack of having anything better to do, Jack sat on the table shirtless and hatless, dangling his feet and trying his luck as a teacher. Not that it was working. James, who usually soaked in information quickly, couldn't find the wit or rather enough interest to concentrate on the most important subject at hand.

"Pretend that I'm some thick-skulled scallywag off the filthy dinghy, and give it your best shot," Jack encouraged.

"You smell very badly, Sir," James informed him.

"No! No! NO!" Jack nearly threw himself off balance in exasperation. "Whoever taught you to swear like that? Certainly wasn't me. Get creative with insulting those flea-bitten nancy-pants and clay-brained numbskulls; or if you insist on being to the point at least say 'you smell worse than a pig in a gutter'! Understand?"

"I think so," James said, but he was clearly unenthusiastic. He didn't have the usual spark of interest to really put his mind to work.

Perhaps he should have waited with this lesson, Jack considered. His student had not yet spent enough time among the less respectable Aruban denizens to pick up on their colourful vocabulary. "Try again."

"You smell like Jack after hangover."

"HEY! I take offense to that!"

"Did I do good then?"

"You do very bad. You're supposed to insult your target, not me."

There was a stream of sunlight slowly creeping up on his spot. Jack moved a good foot away. Although all windows were thrown wide open, there was not a gust of wind, and the house hot as an oven. Jack tried using his hat as a fan. He really did feel like a numbskull due to his brains melting.

"I'm sorry. Maybe you should teach me more reading instead?"

"Nah, kid. Swearing is essential to a pirate. You need to blend in with us better. You are far too formal, a dead giveaway."

"I thought I was just polite."

The hat wasn't useful, and Jack threw it away onto the other side of the table. Politely insulting your target was surely an oxymoron.

"You can hang politeness if it will get you shot. Let's try this again."

But James had lost interest in the conversation. He kept attempting to distract Jack with games. He was bored enough to overcome his natural misbehaving reservations and began to skip around the house. He tripped and nearly ran head first into the wall. There really was too little room for jumping around.

The house was suffocating, Jack thought. It has been long since he allowed himself the freedom to venture far from it. James was restless by being locked up, and so was he.

"Let's go out," Jack offered.

The child was instantly excited about the prospect. "Where are we going?" he asked. The unknown didn't intimidate him. He clearly had the knack for finding adventure.

"To the beach."

James let out a happy squeal and hopped around Jack.

"I'm going to trip over you," Jack told him, but he was hardly annoyed. He too was excited.

Trying to keep to the shade, although there was hardly any, they made way along the dusty street. Jack looked behind them a few times, weary of the Todd and Trent duo who more than once tried to get them, but it seems those two were waiting the day out in some tavern with a cold mug of Grog. There were no threats in the empty street, aside from a stray dog that growled and bared his teeth. Jack kicked a few clumps of earth at him, and the dog scurried away to bark at the boys behind the safety of the fence.

James slowed down considerably, no longer skipping but walking beside Jack. He was looking around and even up at the sky. Jack wondered how James might react to the sea after he had nearly drowned.

His concern proved completely unfounded. James yelped in excitement and raced ahead as soon as they caught first sight of green, gold and azure seductively glimmering ahead of them. James removed his shoes and headed for the water. The sea was sparkling brilliantly in the sun. The waters were calm, with only minor waves lazily lapping the sand. James waited for the first one to reach his feet and jumped right on top for it with a loud splash. He then ran back and forth, escaping from the waves.

Jack snorted at how easily the child was amused. The temperature was bearable on the shore. The fresh breeze tugged at their hair. James splashed in the waves, laughing so freely the way Jack had never seen before. He then waddled into the water, looking carefully at the bottom. He found something interesting and pounced. He flopped onto his stomach and briefly submerged. One of the waves rolled over him. James struggled onto his feet sputtering, but didn't release his bounty. He had a large crab in his hand that was snapping its claws dangerously. James poked it and barely escaped with his fingers intact. Apparently, his seaman blood was alive and vibrant.

Jack removed his own boots, and went knee deep into the water too. James didn't know how to swim, and with that sudden burst of energy it was best to keep an eye on him. Perhaps he should teach him how to swim, instead of all those boring reading lessons, not that he had to endure many thanks to Janet. He snuck up on James and hoisted him up on his shoulders. James laughed, delighted by unexpected attention.

"It would be a pain to keep saving you every time we encounter deep water," Jack informed him, "so you better follow my instruction more diligently than you did with swearing, and learn how to swim."

This was one of a very few things Teague had bothered to teach Jack. He tried to recall those lessons and applied them with James. He held his arm under James' stomach and instructed him on how to kick his feet and move his arms. This lesson was accepted with far more enthusiasm, although it resulted in Jack getting splashed in the face a lot, and spilled out into a chaotic water war.

After spending much of their bubbled up energy, they sat in the shallow with the waves tickling their feet. James was trying to construct mini sand castles with one hand before they were washed away. Jack was watching the horizon. He wanted to go out there where no one could tell him how to live. He finally had the means. An urge to check on his boat that was cleverly hidden in a nearby bay was strong.

James instantly responded as Jack climbed to his feet. One of the waves splashed atop his castle and toppled it.

"Follow me," said Jack.

James did, but his eyes were on the ground. He was constantly stopping to pick up seashells and to poke his fingers at any wildlife that happened to be unfortunate enough to fall into his sight.

As they got closer, Jack grew more anxious. He didn't even leave his boat at the dock firsly because he didn't want his father to know, but also for the fear that someone might steal it. It was unlikely, but someone might have found it regardless. He sprinted towards the familiar spot, leaving James behind. His heart was racing fast when his boat came in sight. It was a neat, roomy dinghy equipped with one sail, two benches and a decent storage space for one man. It was almost new, although with an unfortunate name, _Jelly Weed_.

There was a soft tapping of the feet behind him as James caught up. With a lot of interest he gaped at the sail. No doubt from his perspective the boat seemed bigger than from Jack's. "Is it yours?" he asked.

"Yes. But don't tell anyone, not even my father. It's a secret," said Jack. He caressed the little boat. It meant a lot to him. "I can use this boat to go wherever I want."

James mirrored him and also ran his hand along the hull, beared in the low tide. It was flattering to receive such a good evaluation of his vessel even if it came from a child. Jack climbed aboard and pulled James in with him. Feeling like a first rate Captain, he presented his vessel to James proudly. There were some crunchy biscuits hidden in the compartment, but the second rate freshness didn't both two hungry boys. They sat on the bench munching on them contently.

Jack was looking at the sea dreamily. Something mysterious was hidden beyond the horizon; something better than treasure. It was hope.

"I didn't always want to be a pirate," Jack confided. He sensed that although James was very young he could understand. Both of them shared the connection that neither of them had a choice. "My mother was not a pirate. She was a simple woman, who died a simple death. I lived her life for almost three years before she died. I am seen as a pirate, but sometimes the things that my father does frighten me. Pirates are rumoured as being able to do any evil, but I know there is a lot I wouldn't do, or wouldn't do yet, even if it's expected of me. One day, I hope to have a ship and a crew and be my own man, not a pirate. I know I can never belong to the other side either, but I can be a privateer and be in between, be my own boss. Then, I can go wherever I want, be free."

James looked at Jack's modest vessel that was the first step on his way to his goals wistfully. "I wish I could have a boat like this too," he confessed, inspired by the grand idea that stood behind the wood and sails. "Then, I could sail away. I would go…" his voice broke, and his eyes moistened as he considered a dream that he realised was impossible. "Jack, when you go, if you meet my father out there…" He buried his face in Jack's shirt. His hands grasped handfuls of material. "Please ask him to take me back. I won't ever be scared again. I promise, I promise!"

Something hot like a molten gold trickled down Jack's insides. His heart clenched, waiting for a decision before returning to its steady rhythm. Looking down at the crying child, Jack realised what his first adventure will be.


	9. Chapter 9

_Jelly Weed_ was a friendly boat. She may have lacked cannons and grandiose of the large ships, but she was highly manoeuvrable and instantly obeyed the slightest steering of her sail. The weather was pleasant. Jack had much work to do, navigating the boat and answering James' endless questions about the various parts of the rigging, the deck and any other thing aboard. Jack graciously named every bit and explained how it works. He even allowed James, who was currently trying to make a sea knot in a picture of the perfect concentration, to help him. The child was surprisingly of little hindrance. In fact, his company was far better than being out in the ocean with no one to talk to. It was fun being the Captain and pretending to order his only crew member around. Not that Jack had forgotten about the danger, firstly to himself, of what he was attempting to do.

Teague was going to be angry. Jack had disobeyed his father before, but this time his father was sure to find out. The deed of returning James to the Admiral was impossible to conceal. Perhaps it was best not to return home at all after doing this, Jack mulled over. His home was not the dearest place in the world after his grandmother's death. His desire to become independent was urging him onward.

The copy of the maps Antonio had stolen from the Admiralty, were of the greatest help. All Jack had to do was to steer his boat along one of the Navy patrol routes, and _Jelly Weed_ would be discovered soon. Then, the Navy could take James home, and Jack could get away from them when they weren't looking. Jack even brought a change of clothes with them. It was more comfortable to sail dressed as the pirates, but they would change when he would spot the Royal Navy sails.

The maps were very well crafted, especially with his father's additions. There were helpful details added to each route. Their current bearing followed the route of HMS _Relentless_ that was marked with three black crosses, indicating the highest level of threat. This was making Jack nervous. He would have chosen a different ship, but this one was the closest. He never knew when Teague might return home and start looking for his run away sons. _Misty Maiden_ is the last ship Jack wanted to be caught by.

On the fifth day of their journey, they spotted a ship on the horizon. The sun was against them to tell clearly what kind ship this was. Not every vessel they'd meet was a good choice for them, thus Jack adjusted _Jelly Weed's_ course to head for one of the islands, just in case, although he knew that their current position was vulnerable. They wouldn't be able to get away if the ship decided to pursue.

In a couple of hours it became evident that the ship had a course that intercepted with their boat. As she got closer, Jack distinguished that her outline didn't match the British ships of the line. This was not a merchant ship either, and most likely not a friendly vessel. Jack threw his small telescope down with a curse. He lowered the boat's flag and adjusted the sail to evade the encounter. Unfortunately, they've been spotted. Their location was too far out in the open to make for the shallows where they could have taken cover. Jolly Roger was hoisted up on the mast as the galleon grew in size, gaining on them. The ship signalled for them to surrender and fired a warning shot. They were doused as the cannon ball sunk by their portside.

Jack tossed the Admiralty maps overboard. He lowered the sail, unwilling to have a hole blown in is boat. He might need it later to escape. He signalled their surrender. With much noise and showiness than necessary, _Jelly Weed_ was boarded. The boys were dragged aboard the pirate ship.

The Captain of the ship was the first sight to greet the prisoners. It was a man defined by a huge hat with red feathers and an atrocious crimson jacket. He stood by the railing, with an idle curiosity observing his crew salvaging their find. The crew went through the meagre belongings with clear dissatisfaction.

"Slim plunder we got here, gents," the Captain announced. "Only the dinghy might fetch us a price to cover our expenses for chasin' this worthless tub."

"Captain, the prisoners?" asked one of the pirates. He was tired of playing guardsman while the others divided the loot.

"Oh," said the Captain indifferently. The shabby kids weren't some fair maidens he could use, nor men of value who could be traded off to their familiar for a decent price. "Throw them overboard."

The pirate grinned evilly at James. "Can we make them walk the plank?"

"Aye!" The Captain approved. If he couldn't have the money, perhaps he could have some fun watching the kid cry.

"Dear Captain," said Jack. He pinched the arm of the pirate who was holding him. As the hold slackened, he quickly reached his target and got into his personal space to be well seen and heard. "The real value of a plunder is not in how much the dinghy may or may not fetch, but what's in the dingy that counts."

"What would that be?" the Captain said ironically.

"That be me brains, of course."

"Throw them overboard," the Captain repeated.

One of the pirates grabbed Jack, but the boy grabbed hold of the Captain's jacket.

"Has it ever occurred to you why two young lads might be found out in the ocean in nothing but a dinghy without as much as adult supervision?" he asked.

It hadn't occurred to the Captain, but he thought that it was suspicious now that the boy has mentioned it. "Why would that be, lad?" His crewman gave a big tug, still trying to peel Jack off, thus nearly ripping his jacket and the Captain cursed. "Let him go already, you nitwit!" he barked. The pirate released Jack.

"Because they be escapin' from someone who wants to learn their very important secret," said Jack, pretending to be all hush and mysterious.

Seeing that he wasn't allowed to hold the boy, the pirate pulled out his cutlass and pointed it at Jack who pointedly ignored the weapon.

"Tell me the secret at once or I'll throw you overboard," the Captain demanded.

Jack gave the man with a cutlass the most suspicious stare. He prudishly put his finger on top of the blade and lowered it. He stood on his toes to whisper into the Captain's ear while throwing another suspicious glance at the crew, but then appeared to change his mind.

"Stand back, you worthless bilge rats! There's no breathing space with yer stinkin' hides so near!" the Captain ordered. The pirates moved back two steps, but they were intrigued as well, so they opened their ears wide in hopes to eves drop.

"To find the secret mixture that creates the Hell Cannons." Jack whispered. "The owner of such mixture can have cannons so powerful that they can set a whole ship on fire in one blow!"

The Captain vividly imagined the cannon that he would gladly use on his enemies, especially that lousy privateer who had dared to challenge his right to quarry. He saw a heavily loaded ship first and attacked it, but another Captain took advantage that his vessel was damaged post battle to plunder the loot unpunished. The Captain was cursing that man to Hell. It looked like his prayers have been answered. "Hey kid, I might be disinclined to throw you two overboard if you tell me what the secret mixture is." He could always dispose of them differently if the answer didn't please him.

"How perfectly gracious of you!" Jack exclaimed, pretending to be reassured. "To create the weapon of the infernal doom and absolute destruction, we need…" Jack raised a finger up in the air, holding the pause effectively.

"Bigger cannons!" said the Captain.

Jack shook his head.

"Gunpowder?" suggested one of the pirates, and then pretended that he didn't say it as the Captain shot him an evil glare.

"Better," said Jack. "We need goats."

"GOATS?" the Captain roared. "Are you making fun of me? Throw…"

"I wouldn't dare making fun of such a fearsome pirate as yourself!" Jack exclaimed, interrupting another order to dispose of them. "Even Captain Teague says what a fearsome pirate you are!"

"He does?" The Captain was pleased. "I suppose my reputation as the fearsome Captain Grong precedes me." But he still didn't believe that goats could help him with building the Hell Cannons. "Pray tell, how can the goats help us then? I may even re-consider killing you two if you do."

"It's a done deal," said Jack, shaking the Captain's hand. "You see, it's because we are smarter than goats that we are going to use the goats. Goats go around their islands looking for food. While they are grazing, all sorts of mud sticks to their coats. Some islands have special mud on them. This mud is the secret component of a mixture that creates the Hell Gunpowder. Now, since it would be mighty stupid of us to go around pretending to be goats to gather mud. I say, we sail up to the island, you will send your crew ashore to catch the goats and brush their fur. They have to bring back to us the tangles that they brush out. Then, I will be able to create a perfect weapon for you. With something so powerful you'll become the Admiral of these waters! All the brethren will want to join you! Then nobody gets thrown overboard. Savvy?"

The Captain still wasn't convinced. "Aren't you a bit young to know how to make an advanced mixture like that?"

"I was, but the old alchemist my father had been friends with weren't. He lived at our old place for a while. He told my father lots of alchemy mysteries. My father was too drunk to remember, but I was there and listened and listened. And I remember it all."

"What happened to that alchemist?"

"Oh, he got drunk, fell off a horse and died," said Jack, just in case the Captain wanted to send him to the fishes to trade him for that alchemist who surely knew better than Jack the secret of the weapon.

"Amen, all good men die," said the Captain, touching the brim of his hat in memory of the imaginary alchemist's ghost. "You will join me in my cabin. We will chart the course to the islands," he decided.

"I would like my bother to come with me," said Jack.

"He will be waiting for you in the brig," the Captain smirked. "If you trick me, I'll cut him up bit my bit and feed him to the fishes."

"Then, I better hurry up and make sure it doesn't happen," said Jack. He forced himself to turn away from James, wishing he could have shown him somehow that he intended to get them off the pirate ship alive, and followed the Captain.

After lengthily deliberation with Jack procrastinating as much as possible, the course was established, and Jack was escorted to the brig. He grinned ruefully when James hugged him, very much happy to see him.

Sending the pirate crew off to an island to brush the goats wasn't a bad idea, except Jack couldn't use the opportunity to escape with both of them in the brig. However, the plan to return James to his father was still on. All Jack had to do is keep the galleon on the same course as HSM _Relentless_. Jack counted on the Captain of that Navy ship to be worth his crosses. Most likely, he would take over the pirate ship, especially with such a dullard Captain. Then, he and James will be the two poor children rescued by the Navy from the horrible pirates. James would tell them about his father, and Jack will have a perfect explanation ready for his father. He didn't give James away, they've been captured. No one would tell Teague otherwise. So, everyone would escape relatively unharmed, except perhaps Captain Grong who might get blown to smithereens by the Royal Navy.

It happened at dawn on the third day of their imprisonment. Jack startled awake by a thundering noise. A cannon ball shot through the hull with the wildest racket, bringing down one of the central support beams. James pressed to Jack's side as they listened and tried to guess what was happening on deck.

There was gunfire and heavy fighting, first at sea, and then the pirate ship was boarded. The ship was undertaking dangerous turns that made the planks look like they were about to be twisted out of place. Two more cannon balls hit the ship, blowing two holes below the water line. The ship craned heavily, Jack rolled across his cell and crushed into the bars. James landed on top of him.

Water! He saw in near panic as it began to flood the brig. With mild clatter, the cell keys that used to hang on the support beam slid past him. Jack missed and they went past the cell and got hooked on a piece of rubble. The water was flooding their feet and reaching the keys too. Jack grabbed a piece of plank and reached for the keys with it. He was falling an inch short. The ship craned again, bringing the keys just a bit closer. It was enough. Jack freed them from the rubble, and they slid down the floor into his cell, thus allowing Jack to get them out.

It was impossible to remain below to wait to be saved. Jack grabbed James and ran upstairs, constantly stumbling and dodging the rubble.

The deck was shrouded by heavy smoke. Jack tripped over a dead body. There was a bloodied cutlass beside it that he grabbed for defence. He made several steps, squinting and trying to make out the safest route. Suddenly, James gave him a disturbing tug as a sword tip was pressed to his chest.

"Don't resist, child," came an order. Jack considered his capturer. It was a young man, dressed in the commanding officer uniform. He was wearing a white wig and a necktie with an expensive broach. Jack hardened his grip on James' hand when the child made a slight move to run. The man pried the cutlass away from Jack, and escorted him aboard the Navy vessel.

As the smoke cleared, Jack made out the devastation. The battle was over. The galleon sat heavily in the water, filled with more holes than cheese. She was sinking rapidly. Majority of the pirates lay dead. The British soldiers were casting the remaining pirates in irons.

The boys were escorted to the Captain's deck. Jack smugly noted the golden letters on the helm, HMS _Relentless._ "Captain," his escort addressed a tall man with the piercing blue eyes.

"Just the man I want to see," Jack began. He made an overly zealous movement towards the Captain, but the Lieutenant grabbed his shoulder and yanked him into place.

"Silence, pirate," the Captain cut him off without a trace of warmth. He only spared one glance at the prisoners that was more fitting for the Arctic Circle than for the waters of the Caribbean. "Why did you bring them to me, Lieutenant?"

"Children, Sir. What should we do with them?"

The Captain took in their clothes, from the tip of the boots to the ornaments in Jack's hair. His eyes then rested on the cutlass in Lieutenant's hand. "Pirate children," said the Captain, keeping all emotion out of his voice. "The older one has been arrested by you aboard a pirate ship, in possession of a bloodied weapon in the midst of a battle. You don't know how many he has killed today. He looks old enough to be hung like the rest."

"What about the younger one?"

Just a brief flash of hesitation, then it was gone. "We are bound by law," the Captain said firmly. Perhaps there might have been just a shadow of pleading in his eyes, asking his Lieutenant not go argue. "Lock them in the brig. Once we are done with the repairs on the upper deck, set up the conditions to hang all prisoners. Their Captain has refused to surrender and kept firing on us until his last shot. Since they have not surrendered, we are not taking prisoners. We cannot imprison every pirate we meet, regardless. Why should the citizens of our Port feed them while the bureaucracy takes its sweet time deciding what to do, when the course of action is obvious?"

"My apologies, Sir. The lives of the citizens are more important." The subordinate looked away, burdened by the decision. "I will escort the prisoners."

"Wait!" Jack exclaimed. "You might like to know that this child is not a pirate. I'm sure Admiral Norrington will be grateful if you do not hang his son but return him!"

His outburst only succeeded in making the Captain livid. He might have struck the pirate had Jack been older. "I know who Admiral Norrington is. I am terribly sorry that his son has been taken by the pirates. But I am not so blind as to confuse one pirate for another. The boy has been taken by Captain Teague, not by the incompetent baboon we have sunk. I will not allow the scum like you to take advantage of the Admiral's personal tragedy! Everyone who was aboard the galleon will hang tomorrow at dawn; you two will be first, as a sign of mercy." Did they really think that he would forget his responsibilities and bring every boy he found at the Caribbean to the Admiral for identification? What a cruel joke that would be.

The Captain dismissed them. He pointedly turned his back on them as he headed to assess the damage to the _Relentless_.

The Lieutenant escorted Jack to the brig, but he didn't have the heart to lock the young one in. He took James to his cabin. He tied James' hand behind his back and left him there.

This was the longest day in James' life. The rope was itchy and hurting his wrists. He wiggled his hands as much as he could to get it off. He wasn't sure, but he thought that the hold got a little looser because he could get a bigger part of his hand out, but his wrists have also accumulated significant bruises. Lucky for him, the Lieutenant's heart was not into binding him tight, and the rope was slowly yielding under pressure. James was thirsty. He cried a little with his hope destroyed. Is this what his father would do if he came back to him? Hang him like a pirate?

The Lieutenant did not return to his cabin until his double shift had ended. He was extremely tired after participating in the battle first hand and then dealing with the repairs all day. He offered James a bit of water before retiring.

The air in the cabin was still. The man's breathing was quiet. The rest of the space was filled with disturbing silence that stirred many fearful thoughts in the late hours of the night. Tomorrow they will die. James was so sad that his fate didn't trouble him, but surely Jack didn't want to die. Then Jack could never fulfill his dream to own a big ship and sail away. In despair, James tried again to free his hands. The bonds cut into his wrists, but the pain only matched what he felt inside. He pulled even harder and was rewarded when his hands came free.

The Lieutenant was sleeping soundly. James felt very bad. The man who treated him nicely was going to be in big trouble with the Captain, but he couldn't let Jack die. He snuck towards the chair where the Lieutenant had hung his jacket and pulled the keys out of the pocket. The floorboards were soundless under hit light feet. The door protested with a small sound as he pried it open a crack. James slid outside noiselessly.

All lights aboard the ship were extinguished. She had sustained damage. Having wounded soldiers and the prisoners had made them vulnerable. The Captain didn't want to attract any more attention until the repairs were done.

James remembered the way. Taking cover where he could, he snuck past the night watch. He quickly located the staircase that led to the brig. It was even darker there than on deck. Loud snoring, coughs and moans of the prisoners was filling the cramped space.

"Jack," he whispered. James startled at the sound of his own voice that was too loud for the dozing ship.

"Here." Jack didn't want to say anything else. The other prisoners might get jealous that he was escaping and raise an alarm.

Luckily, Jack has been locked in the cell closest to the stairs where there was more air, and separated from the rest of the pirates. Getting over his fear, James followed the steps down by touch until he found the rough cell bars. James held the keys through the bars and jiggled them for Jack to locate them by the sound. Jack's hand was cold as he took the keys from him. The waiting lasted eternity while Jack found the lock by touch and pried it open. They froze and held their breath when the gate clanged open. The snoring stalled, followed by quiet shuffling, but whoever had his rest disturbed went back to either sleeping or praying.

When no one came to investigate, the boys soundlessly climbed the stairs. Jack breathed in with his full chest, enjoying the caress of the fresh evening air once again.

The boys snuck under the guise of night to the stern, ducking for cover at the slightest rustle. Expecting to be caught any moment, they lowered the smallest boat. It made a soft splash against the waves. They cast off without a problem. HMS _Relentless_ was moving steadily in broad reach, thus she quickly left the small boat behind. Jack took the paddels and rowed in the opposite direction.

"You did well," he muttered approval to James into darkness.

"Jack, let's go home," James requested softly. "Let's go home to Aruba." He was proud that his voice didn't tremble, but his cheeks were salted by the sea water and tears.


	10. Chapter 10

Returning home in a rowing boat was not as easy as it was sailing in a dinghy. On the second day, the boys were both hungry and thirsty. However, Jack suspected that it was not due to tiredness that James lacked his usual energy. The child in silence looked moodily at the waves like they have betrayed him. He had no playful inclinations to put his hand overboard to touch the water. His melancholy was rubbing off on Jack. When a small island came in sight he rowed to it with the renewed determination, hopeful that a new setting might alter the mood. Otherwise, he almost came to regret that _Relentless_ had never showed up to reclaim her prisoners.

When they landed, their first priority was to find water. Jack dreaded the possibility that there weren't any. He slowed down so James could keep up with him. It was unusual minding his pace because it was Jack who frequently had to go running after the child. Their slow pace saved him from pitching head first into a large pit that was covered by the undergrowth. The origins of the pit were mysterious. It looked like it had been dug by men for some kind of a large animal, big enough to be an elephant. However, the island didn't have any inhabitants bigger than a crab.

Jack steered James around the pit. Soon, they've located a slim trail of water between the rocks. They drank greedily, although they had nothing they could use to carry the water with them. Jack scavenged the area for fruit. James followed him out of habit without his usual curiosity, although he mirrored whatever Jack was doing perfectly. Spending time with Jack was rubbing off on him, not that he could be as awesome as Jack at being Jack, Jack figured.

They gathered more fruit and carried these provisions to their boat for further journey that Jack wanted to resume in the morning. It was getting late. The sun was scraping the tops of the waves, colouring them in red. Jack looked for the place where they could spend the night. He found what looked like a good spot and removed his jacket, intending to stretch out on his back and relax when he smelled the unmistakable sign of men, campfire and smoke.

Jack had long grown mistrustful of the world, thus he decided to investigate who they've had the pleasure of sharing this piece of land with, hopefully without them noticing him first.

Jack ordered James to guard his jacket while he went to spy on the other visitors of the island. He slid nimbly through the wall of jungle that kept trying to tangle him up. Soon, he reached his destination. There was a campfire set on the beach, not far from the trees. His caution had been prudent. Jack recognised the duo who kept threatening him on Aruba.

Todd and Trent were masters of their camp. They were roasting something tasty on the sticks above the fire. The smell was making Jack's mouth water. Further in the water, Jack saw a boat with a sail that unmistakably belonged to them. The pirates were having a conversation about whatever interested them the most at present, what brought them to the island. Jack crawled closer to eavesdrop.

"Don't you think it's strange that we've found this map washed up on the shore of Aruba?" Trent was saying as he poked his meat and blew on it, but didn't risk the taste yet.

"Don't see anything strange about it," replied Todd. His meat was not as cooked as Trent's was. He gave his stick to Trent to hold while he supposedly changed his sitting position, and then took away the stick where the meat was ready. His friend didn't appear to notice with a more serious issue plaguing him.

"But, why would anyone want to put their map in a bottle and throw it away?" said Trent. "Maps are made to make finding the treasure easier. If they throw away the map, then they will need to find the map before they can find their treasure again. That's very difficult."

"So, what are you trying to say? That this map isn't valid? In case you forgot, we were having trouble with money after losing that big gambling bet. You want to go back without the treasure to those we owe the money to?"

"No," Trent denied fervently. "But this map has letters. How can we read this map when neither of us can read? I don't like this map. Why can't all of it be drawings?"

"So?" Todd was getting angry as he burned his tongue on his meal.

"I think we need to find someone who can read."

"Then we'll have to share with them part of the treasure."

"But if we can't find the treasure, we won't get any treasure at all. It will take us forever to find it, and I'm tired," Trent got to the root of his problem.

"Stop complaining. We'll have plenty of rest tonight, and we can resume the digging tomorrow."

However, Trent, who was the one doing most of the digging, and who was sore all over, was far less willing to continue. Even if his partner kept insisting that there was something valuable on the island, he didn't want to do all the hard work. Todd didn't like being wrong, but he had to admit that his partner had a point.

"Fine, we'll sail back tomorrow and find someone who can read," he agreed grudgingly as he took Trent's share of rum. The other pirate didn't seem to mind, glad that he had won this argument.

This was bad. Jack had intended to take over the dinghy when the pirates went to look for the treasure the next day, but now he had to do it before the night was over. Jack realised that it would be very difficult to cross the sea in the rowing boat when they didn't even have water containers. He had to secure better transportation, like that dinghy. It looked far shabbier than his lost _Jelly Weed_, but it was better than rowing.

Jack understood why the pair went after the treasure in spite of more than dubious origin of their map. The pirates had to be adventurists. They tended to believe in unbelievable and took chances where no one else would because this is how they've made living. Cautious men didn't make very good pirates. Frequently, those treasure chases left them empty handed, but even that tiny chance when it was true was worth it.

Jack retreated from his spying position. The sun half-dipped into the sea. He had to finish his work before it got dark. He cut down the thickest bamboo trunks and cut holes in them like in the flutes. Jack carried the parts closer to the camp and assembled them. It became a complicated contraption that looked like a musical instrument.

Once it was set in place, Jack went to get his brother. James was asleep curled up on top of his jacket. Jack shook him awake and instructed him how to behave during their attempt to steal the dinghy and what to do if the attempt failed.

He waited for the night to fall on the island when the pirates began to yawn under the influence of rum and sleep. As slight breeze picked up, Jack unplugged the main holes in his instrument. The contraption began to howl and moan pitifully, creating quite a racket.

This got the duo's attention. They jumped on their feet with their weapons out. They peered in the direction of the sound like there was a legion of hellish creatures hiding in the jungle. Trent attempted to cross himself, but he got it all wrong.

"Todd," he said with his teeth nearly chattering. "Do you think it might be the island ghost?"

"There's no such thing as an island ghost," said Todd. He was putting up bravado, but he wasn't sure either. "If you go and take a look, then you will see for yourself."

"But, I do believe in ghosts," Trent insisted. "It might be the ghost that guards the treasure. If you don't believe in it, go and check yourself."

After much arguing, both pirates went to investigate. The weapons in their hands were trembling, but neither of them wanted to confess that he was more scared than the other.

"Let's go," Jack whispered to James. He ran across the open space to the dinghy past the campfire. The boat was beached. He and James pushed it with all their might, but the dinghy didn't budge. He climbed inside and raised sail, hopeful that the wind might assist it moving it, but it made no difference. Jack threw a desperate glance behind them. Todd and Trent appeared, yelling loudly as they noticed the raised sail. The pirates found his contraption. Naturally, they got suspicious and hurried back to make sure that nothing happened to their boat.

"Hide!" Jack hissed. He pushed James in the shadow of the dinghy, and sprinted along the waterline. His figure became visible in the moonlight. The pirates followed him. The pursuit was hot on his heels. Jack was tired after two days of rowing. He didn't think he could get away. He took a sharp turn into the jungle where he ducked behind a rock, but Todd lunged at his foot and tackled him down before he could hide. They rolled in a tangle with Jack doing his best to get away until Trent reached them and separated them.

Todd got up, slapping the dirt off his person, and then discovered the identity of the thief. He jaw went slack. "You!" he exclaimed.

"Me?" asked Jack, seemingly surprised at his own existence.

"How did you get here?" asked Trent as he too recognised Jack.

"I…"

"Shuddap, you'll tell us a lie anyway," yelled Todd. "I don't care how he did it, let's kill him."

As he picked up his cutlass, Jack slid out of his vest like an eel and ducked for cover, leaving the vest with Trent. "Wait! I can share a big secret with you!" he exclaimed, running around the rock with the pirates following. "I know the secret that makes Teague the most famous pirate ever!" Trent fired at him. Pieces of stone cascaded as the musket ball hit the rock. "He said that before killing a man, he first asked how that man could be useful to him!"

Trent seemed to like that idea. He stopped and scratched the back of his head with an empty pistol. "How can you possibly be of use to us?" he asked, meanwhile his partner continued chasing Jack around the rock.

Jack couldn't let them guess that he had overheard their conversation, so he kept running shouting random things. "I can jungle coconuts while standing on one foot!"

That didn't seem to be to his pursuer's liking because this time it was Todd who unloaded his pistol at him.

"I can also dress like a nun and infiltrate a church!"

"Not useful," said Trent. He began loading his pistol again.

"I can READ!"

Trent tucked his pistol into his belt and caught his buddy as he ran past him. "Wait, Todd! That can be useful."

"It's a trick," said Todd. "He will trick us again.

However, Trent was really fed up with digging. "But, he can read the map for us! We don't have to share the treasure with him, and we won't have to go back to find someone to read the map for us."

"No. He will probably steal our treasure."

But no matter how angry he was, Todd couldn't convince his partner to kill the boy yet. Trent really wanted to take the chance rather than digging up every inch of the island. After much arguing, the pirates went back to their camp as they agreed to give the map to Jack.

The map was a picture of the islands. The island they were on was marked with a large red cross, which explained how the pirates found this place to dig. The rest of the instructions were written down in a messy scrawl, explaining where exactly they had to dig once they've reached the island.

"It says we must find a monkey head first," said Jack. He had no idea what that meant. There weren't any monkeys on the island, unless it was something that resembled a monkey or some sort of poll with a dry monkey head on it.

"Todd, I've seen the monkey," suddenly, Trent remembered. "There was a big rock that had a funny shadow. It looked like the monkey's head. I've pointed it out to you, but you said that I should focus on looking for the treasure."

"You'd be even cleverer if you remembered the way to it," Todd muttered resentfully. He was sulking over the loss of his authority.

"I do!" said Trent. "Follow me!"

Trent really remembered the way. They've taken the torches and went into the jungle. The stone was huge and impossible to miss.

"Then, walk fifteen paces from the nose," said Jack. They've examined the stone, finally agreeing on where was the face. Jack counted fifteen steps and drew a big cross with the heel of his boot. "Over here," he said.

Trent threw the shovel at Jack. "You dig," he ordered.

As Jack dug, he wondered about the map. Jack thought that the instructions were too easy. It was like someone had purposely provided every hint for them to find the treasure. Even the ground was soft. Sure enough, his shovel had soon struck wood. Todd joined him by the shallow pit as they removed a small chest from the ground. The pirates were disappointed by the size. They hoped something super valuable was inside. Todd broke the lock off with the shovel and first opened the chest.

He cursed loudly, throwing his find on the ground. He shook the chest and searched it for the hidden bottom, and then broke it apart with the shovel, but nothing else was in it aside from an old compass. Trent picked it up.

"This doesn't point north!" he announced.

The compass needle indeed was spinning in circles. The pirates glared at Jack like it was his fault. They were very close to going back to their initial plan to kill him.

"Incredible!" Jack exclaimed so loudly that the bird that slept on the nearby trees shrieked and flied away. "Congratulations! You've found the legendary compass of Captain Petrov!"

"Huh?" said Trent. This pistol got tangled in his belt and he struggled to get it out.

"This compass is very special! It doesn't point north because it doesn't need to point north. All it needs to do is point to the Captain's treasure," Jack explained, although he had no idea what the compass did. "You just need to follow whichever way the compass points and you will find the real treasure. Just think about the treasure that you wanted to find and you will find it."

Trent attempted to test this theory. He thought about the treasure he wanted to find on this island. The compass needle settled on one spot, pointing behind him. He turned around and began walking that way, but the compass needle pointed again at him. Todd took over the compass, but he kept getting the same result.

Jack anticipated that he will be blamed again. "Gentlemen!" he exclaimed. "It seems to me that we are trying to approach the unapproachable. The only correct course of action would be for me to take over the compass and lead you to the treasure."

"Why will the compass work for you but not for us?" asked Todd.

"You need to speak Russian for the compass to work," said Jack.

"Why Russian?" asked Trent.

"Because the original owner of this compass was Russian, so the compass understands only Russian."

"Why should we trust you that you speak Russian?" asked Trent.

"It is simple," Jack said cheerfully, like it was the most obvious explanation in the world. "I am Jack Sparrow." With that he quickly pried the compass from Trent, who was trying to understand what being Jack Sparrow implied and why when the boy said it, as ridiculous as it was, it seemed so persuasive.

"Allow me to try," Jack muttered. He hoped that the compass needle won't point at him. He still wasn't sure how he was going to get away, he had hoped to do so while the pirates got carried away diving their treasure. He wanted the two to fall into some pit that hopefully they wouldn't be able to get out of. The needle stopped, pointing ahead of him in the direction they've come from. Having no choice, Jack followed it, feigning confidence as they circled the island. The area soon became familiar as they went past the creek. Jack recognised the line of bushes behind which lay the pit. The needle kept steadily pointing that way. A plan formed in his mind at once.

Jack confidently guided them towards the pit. When he almost got there, he heard a branch crack behind them. James must have been following, he guessed. Trent stopped and looked in the direction of the noise. Jack quickly stepped towards him and whispered in the pirate's ear, "It's here!"

Trent looked at him suspiciously.

"It's here! I can feel it getting closer. It is beyond that growth," Jack exclaimed loudly, pointing towards the bushes. When there were only several feet left between them and the pit, Jack fell on the ground. His eyes rolled back and he convulsed like a man possessed. He spoke in a deep, haunted voice. "Who comes to seek my treasure? I, Duke Petrov, allow my map to come floating across the sea in the bottle only to the worthy! Only those who can take care of my legendary treasure may find my map! There are diamonds as clear as the crystals of ice, sapphires blue as the sky and rubies red as the blood pouring out of the hearts of my enemies. The first one to close his eyes and walk through the wall of grass and flowers will have the shower of golden coins descend on him!"

"Well then," said Todd quickly. Claim as he might that he didn't believe in ghosts, he was spooked by Jack's performance that was absolutely eerie at night in the torch light. But, even so, his ambition was even greater. "I think I should go first."

"Wait," said Trent, "Why shouldn't I be the first one to enter! I found the bottle first."

"I opened it!" Todd yelled.

"Hurry! Or the gold will disappear with the moonlight!" Jack howled.

The pirates closed their eyes and stepped through the undergrowth at the same time. They fell into the pit and rolled down the steep slope with a string of curses as they got scratched by every branch and encountered every bump on the way down.

"James!" Jack called. The child came to his side at once. Jack noted that he had done an excellent job hiding very near without being seen, in a spot where a grown up couldn't have fitted.

They ran like their life depended on it to the dinghy. It smelled terribly, but that was unimportant. The tide had risen a little while they were looking for treasure. After much pushing, the dinghy was floating. Jack guided it further out into the sea. The wind wasn't strong, but it was enough to steer them away from the island.

Todd and Trent appeared on the shore. Only the greatest fury and desire for vengeance gave them strength to get out of the pit. They ran into the water. Trent even attempted to swim after their stolen boat, but it was too late. The boys went out of their reach.

Once he set sail, Jack examined his first hard won piece of plunder. The compass needle was pointing in the same direction that they were heading, Aruba. Jack didn't believe that the compass was broken. He had a theory that he wanted to test.

As he poke and probed the compass, trying to learn its secret, a tall wave smashed against the dinghy. A force pried the compass from Jack and carried it overboard. He tried to grab it as it sunk, but his fingers only got a pinch of water.

Blast, he thought. If the sea Goddess wanted the compass, then there was nothing he could do to contest it. Perhaps, one day he would come across that shiny item again and banter it for a sack of gold. He hadn't been able to solve yet why that compass was important, but it was mysterious, and a mystery was something he couldn't resist solving.

He shared a conspirator grin with James and ruffled the child's hair. "Worry not," he said, more thinking about what troubled the child rather than possible vengeance of the duo. The duo was a problem to deal with in the future rather than tonight. "Everything's going to be fine."


	11. Chapter 11

Jack woke up to the familiar rustle of the bird wings up in the attic. He stretched and considered in a half daze how lucky they've been that Teague had never showed up home to notice their little adventure. No one had disturbed their home in the absence of its inhabitants. A piece of cloth which Jack had inserted into the door had not been disturbed, thus no one had been there. It certainly was relaxing to lie in bed and work sore knots out of his muscles. And it was quiet, too quiet. It was suspicious that he was allowed to wake up in peace. Jack fumbled around, rolling out of bed. He hopped to the window barefoot. It was difficult to tell with the heavy clouds and drizzle, but he thought it was way past noon. It was strange that James didn't prod him awake earlier to demand breakfast.

Jack tiptoed to the corner where he heard the quiet breathing to check on him. James was curled in a ball, still sleeping. His cheeks were overly flushed, and dark shadows lay under his eyes. Damp hair strands were sticking to his forehead. Jack brushed them away, and pulled his hand back in dismay. James was burning up. "Hey," Jack called softly. He shook James gently, trying to coax him to wake up. The child opened his eyes with difficulty. He gave Jack an inapprehensive look that quite frankly Jack was frightened by.

What was he suppose to do? He didn't know. Give him rum? No, no good at all. Don't suppose the fever might go away on its own? Think harder. Do something. Put your shoes on. He did. He gathered James in a lump of blankets and ran to the Alvaro's home. The bundle was wet and hot against his chest. The drizzle wet his eyelashes, turning his road into a blur. The town looked desolate, even the market street looked poor with the usual wares hidden from the upcoming storm. He knocked on the door quite desperately. One. Two. Three knocks. What was taking so long? Janet did mention that her husband had to go out of town. Did she go with him?

The door opened. Jack was never happier to see anyone in his life than this woman barely past middle age with her hair touched by a few grey strands glaring at him for disturbing her peace. Jack stretched the bundle out to her like an offering pleadingly.

"I don't know what to do."

God Bless the decisive women. Janet called out to whichever Saints she worshiped as she realised what that bundle was. She took the child and rushed into her home. Jack dazedly closed the door, taking it as an invitation to come in and wiped the mist off his eyelashes.

"Get the blanket from the dresser," she ordered as Jack uncertainly appeared in the bedroom, shuffling from foot to foot. She was already removing the sweat soaked clothes that were on James. They didn't have anything in child size, so Janet dressed him in her cotton blouse and wrapped him in blanket. "Stay with him. I'll get the eggs and remedies," she commanded.

Jack sat down on the edge of the bed obediently. He must have misheard that part about the eggs. James hadn't opened his eyes once, which was worrisome. How did he get himself attached to this little pet? It was best for pirates to have less emotional attachments because life was such a fickle dame. The sea tides pounded in his ears, and some kind of troublesome knot settled in his stomach. He didn't even notice when he began referring to James as his brother rather than that grandmother's sister's thing. James had his hand curled into a tight fist. It was so little. Jack touched it with one finger. The child uncurled his fist and wrapped his fingers around Jack's finger. Brother, Jack thought with the strangest emotion that might have been tenderness, my little brother. It was disconcerting to be out of control. He hoped Janet knew what she was doing.

She returned with a tray with all sorts of healing looking things. "Wrap these around his feet," she ordered, giving Jack two sticky handkerchiefs. Jack raised his eyebrows but followed her instructions.

"Pardon me, good woman, but were you saying something about the eggs?" he questioned, catching James' foot. James turned out to be ticklish and tried to pull his foot away when Jack was wrapping it up.

"Don't give me that incredulous look," said Janet as she tried to coax some drink into James. "Egg whites are very helpful. You need to soak two handkerchiefs with them and apply them to the soles of the feet. This draws the temperature down, away from the head. The egg whites soak the fever in. I've cured my husband this way. What a bad fever he had. The doctor said that we could do nothing, but I am not used to waiting. This has saved my husband, and this will help your brother too. You'll see."

Jack nodded. He was willing to believe in the miraculous power of the eggs and whatever else as long as it helped. He followed Janet's instructions until she was satisfied that they've done all they could for James. They had to let his body fight the rest. Jack intended to sit with him, but Janet tapped his shoulder and ordered him to go to the kitchen with her.

"We don't want you catching your cold as well," she reasoned. "I have a fire in the kitchen. I'll make something warm for you. You must be hungry. Boys at your age are always hungry."

Jack was. Janet was no longer giving him orders, so he sunk into a chair at the table, listening to the heavy rain beating against the roof with his mind wondering across the hall to the bedroom where James slept and then to the sea where his father was upholding the laws of piracy.

Janet seemed content in the kitchen. Her mind was wondering too, letting her hands do the work that were long used to the perfectly timed movements. She was in her element in her kitchen. Soon, she began to hum a tune. _"Yo ho, yo ho, and the really bad eggs."_

It was catchy_._

"It seems to be a highly unappetising song to go with your cooking," Jack commented curiously.

Janet smiled at his cheek. "When I was as young as you are, I used to be enamoured by pirates. Perhaps, those tendencies still haven't completely gone away. It explains why I am comfortable living on Aruba where the town is filled with them, even if they are much different from my childish romantic illusions. Back then, I've learned many songs about the pirates. Some have faded from my memory, but this is my favourite one," she explained. Those must have been good memories of her childhood. Her hands slowed down a little as she thought about the past. "Would you care to learn the verses?" she offered.

"I guess so," Jack agreed. He didn't know what to do, and his thoughts weren't too pleasant.

"Good," said Janet. She began to recite the verses and then sing them with Jack repeating and then singing with her.

"_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me…_

_We're rascals, scoundrels, villians, and knaves,  
>Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho.<br>We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs,  
>Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho."<em>

The song was long. By the end of it Jack's heart felt lighter. He decided that this song was also his favourite, especially if the eggs were going to help James. Janet seemed sure, thus he waited and hoped for the best.

The fever had been a nasty one. It retreated temporarily by nightfall and came back full force in the morning. His caretakers didn't leave James even for a minute the entire day, afraid that they may not find him alive. His breathing was difficult. He was whimpering and whispering words that they couldn't make out like something haunted him. In the dead of the night, sleep deprived Jack, thought he had seen some kind of phantom at the foot of the bed that stood there mournfully as if saying goodbye. As Jack lit the candle the phantom disappeared. Janet was going to ask Jack to get the doctor if James didn't get better by the next day, not that she thought anyone else could be much more of help than she already was. Only by daybreak, their fears were put to rest, and the worst of it passed. The young and strong body after a long fight had won. The child felt better. He was no longer shaking so violently, and his forehead was not as hot to the touch.

James mostly slept for the following three days. Janet sung to him and told him stories whenever he could listen. On the sixth day, Jack found his brother sitting in bed propped up by the pillows and licking honey off a large spoon.

"Janet promised to make lots of pastries and cakes for you, short cakes," Jack announced with his eyes twinkling. It looked like his brother was going to survive.

"Jack!" the child smiled happily. He didn't even get offended by the name calling. It was proof that he was all right as he asked the same question that he began asking upon Jack's return whenever he had been away from home. "Where have you been?"

Measuring his every step with importance, Jack crossed the room and sat down beside James. "I've been getting something shiny for you," he informed the child. It was something he had stumbled on by accident while he was checking on his home. Jack was having a premonition; something was telling him that he had to be there. Maybe his father was coming back, he thought.

"Hey, quick fingers you've got there," he exclaimed as James got into his pocket looking for his present.

With relish, he brought a small object wrapped up in a cloth out on his jacket and presented it to James. The child was trembling with excitement as he unwrapped his present. It was a silver chain, a bit too long for James, but he would quickly grow into it. At the end of the chain dangled a finely crafted bird, also made of silver. James traced the smooth edges with his finger and turned it to catch the light on the wings.

"I've been thinking," said Jack, feeling suddenly nervous, "because you will be staying with me, you will know many personal things about me that others will not, and likewise I will learn a lot about you. Only brothers know that much about each other. The pendant is crafted to be a sparrow. This is my last name. You may not be one in blood, but you are connected by fate to my family. If you want a brother, then put this gift around your neck. It is up to you to do it."

It was a tie that bound them together as a family, and an important decision. But, it wasn't difficult at all for James. Confidently, he grasped the chain and put it around his neck while smiling. "I want a family," he confessed brightly. "Thank you, Jack." He got out of the tangle of the blankets to give his brother a hug. Jack ruffled his hair. He had never been close to another person, at least not to anyone he cared for. There was the strangest, most satisfactory feeling in him. Yet, it was quickly interrupted.

He heard a slight tapping. There was someone outside who was trying to get his attention. Jack stole a glance at the window. Sure enough, there was a familiar face. Jack made a shooing motion, willing for the man to disappear.

"I'll be back brother," he told James roguishly. "I'll be asking Janet how soon her pastries will be ready." He winked at James and hurried outside. He snuck past the kitchen where Janet was working. Jack quickly pushed the front door open as he stepped out and closed the door soundlessly.

"Are you insane coming here?" he hissed angrily at the man who was waiting for him half-hidden by the stall. He didn't want Janet to find out that he was attracting shady folks to her home, especially someone as loud and absolutely bad at being inconspicuous as Antonio. She just might reconsider and turn them away.

"I couldn't find you at home," said Antonio. He was keeping his voice unusually subdued "I have a letter for Teague," he informed Jack. He looked unnaturally spooked, and for some reason relieved that it was Jack he was giving the letter to instead of his father. He didn't even ask for pay, and took his leave as soon as Jack accepted the envelope.

Jack examined the envelope, sure that these were bad news. Like a blood spill, a large seal with the markings belonging to the Admiralty stood out on the yellow page.


	12. Chapter 12

They've met at the foot of an abandoned lighthouse. Just the two of them, as their agreement have stated. Teague waited a while, making sure that indeed no one else was there before stepping out of the shadows and heading towards the wooden structure. The sea and the wind invaded his senses, roaring below his feet and swirling about him. Seven months. For him they've passed like one day, meanwhile James had grown almost an inch. That's how long their mutual unwillingness to compromise had lasted until a meeting had been arranged.

Teague had the letter in his pocket along with his watch that ticked steadily and rhythmically just like the beating of his heart. It was not the first, but the third letter from the Admiral that had urged him to respond. He wasn't a dog to come running at the first call. Only when Antonio came with the third letter, looking harassed and almost begged Teague to answer it, did the pirate decide to act. Teague had arranged the meeting at a completely different place than what Admiral had been proposing. Just the two of them had to be present.

A tall man wrapped in a long cloak separated from the base of the lighthouse to meet him. They stopped few paces away, neither willing to speak until the Admiral raised his hand, inviting Teague inside the lighthouse. As they walked, Teague noticed with satisfaction that Admiral still favoured his shoulder. Their encounter had left a deep mark. He hoped the wound had gotten infected.

"Came to pay up your life debt, Norrington?" he asked at last, stopping at the base of the lighthouse and refusing to go inside. His nemesis acknowledged it with a half shrug as he folded his arms on his chest. Behind his shoulders lay the sea, almost as dark and deep as the tension between them.

"There is no life debt. James fell into the water because of you. It doesn't count if you are saving him from your own murderous attempt."

His tone and posture were overconfident as always. Teague wasn't fooled by the folded arms, knowing too well how fast Lawrence could draw a weapon. He too relaxed his stance somewhat and put his hand in his pocket. His fingers wrapped around the watch, the steady beat of which was helping him maintain his cool.

"That's not what you've said earlier."

"Those words haven't been thought through."

"Then how do you intend to get your son back if you don't acknowledge that you owe me something?"

"I simply acknowledge your power in the situation where you are holding my son hostage, but I believe neither of us is interested in maintaining such an arrangement. I have something you may want in exchange for releasing my son."

It wasn't easy for the Admiral to acknowledge that his enemy had an advantage over him and having to take some of his words back. More so, bargaining with the pirate was his last choice. He had not been surprised that Teague was difficult to catch once the pirate had stopped seeking encounters with him, but he knew that his pursuit had been wearing them both out. Surely, Teague wanted to put an end to it.

The pirate was occupied by the similar thoughts. He might have mastered deceit and cunning, but Teague knew that no one was uncatchable. He couldn't underestimate Norrington who had gone as far as finding Antonio, a man who was too close to him for comfort. However, revenge rarely followed the path of reason. "You can only offer me information or money. I have enough informants. As for the later, I have no use for your petty trinkets. I can get all the treasure I want by myself," he responded.

Lawrence didn't believe him. Surely, Teague wanted something from him that he hadn't thought of offering yet, although the presumption that he would hand over any military information to a pirate was outrageous. He forced himself to ignore the urge to strangle that man who had been poisoning his life for years. "I am speaking about the effects of sentimental value. For instance, _Guardian Lawrence_ is my personal ship, although I serve His Majesty. You may not care about her value, but a good ship is not easy to find, and this one you will appreciate the significance of owning, owning legally mind you."

"I care not for your insults," Teague spat. Yet, he was tempted. Lawrence sensed his hesitation.

"I have something else that might sway you." Norrington produced three unsealed envelopes from the folds of his cloak. "These letters have been written by Catherine. They were addressed to you. Needless to say, I have intercepted them, which she never found out."

"Bastard," Teague hissed. "She died thinking that I have never responded because I didn't care about her."

"She died thinking about her son and husband," Norrington parried icily. "These letters have been sent by her before I have given you that promise. After she had married me, she never looked back again. I've made her happy. There was no need to remember you."

Teague cursed. Norrington regarded him unmoved. They stared at each other - one with hate, another with weariness. Norrington was first to stand down. "It was a long time ago," he said. His strong voice carried a burden. It sounded hallow in the night. "Nothing will bring her back, and if we keep on fighting we will lose what little we have of her. Return the boy to me, and I will return the letters and give you whatever other compensation you want, and we'll call it quits. Does either of us want to be part of each other's lives longer than necessary?"

It was tempting. He wanted the small stack of papers that had left his heart as broken as the seals on them. The longing set his teeth on the edge. With the greatest effort he overcame that weakness. "Beg," Teague demanded emotionlessly. "I want you to beg. Like six years ago I came to you begging on my fours like a dog. I begged you to let me see her before she married you. I had to see her. I want you begging just as much as I did."

It had to be an impossible request. Teague knew that this man was proud. It was easier to make a lion bow down to a hyena. The Admiral wouldn't lower himself to a pirate. After the longest pause, Norrington gave in. His one knee touched the ground and then the other. "I am begging you to put this matter behind us and return my son to me."

Just for one instant, Teague felt the deepest satisfaction, and then it was clouded by pain. "Even," he choked out. "Now we're even. I want nothing else from you. I can stop pursuing you."

"Tell me where my son is," Norrington demanded. "When will I see him?"

Teague smiled at him with every bit of malice he could muster. "Your son is with me. Now, I will tell you what you've told me six years ago when I was begging. I promise, if the boy takes the initiative to come to you himself, I will not stop him, and then you will see him. But, I will not take on the role to connect you two willingly. You can burn those stolen letters in Hell along with yourself when you die. They've been important to me before Catherine gave her heart away to you completely. I will have her love through her son's love."

"You're mad. James will never forget who his father is."

"James will never forget that his father had wished him dead."

His remark hit the target as he had anticipated. Lawrence tensed like a large predator before the jump.

"Careful, pirate, I can kill you where you stand," he warned as the last elusive threads to find his son ripped apart.

"That won't do you any good. I am the only boy's protector. What do you think will happen to him in my world should I die?" Teague asked.

He barely got out of the way when a sword cut through the air exactly where his neck had been. Teague unsheathed his weapon too.

"Then at least his life will be traded for yours! You will never kidnap another child again!" Norrington yelled.

Their blades clashed harder than ever with their ringing added to the natural howling of the elements.

"Still willing to sacrifice your son for your pride and principles?" Teague sneered. "That's exactly the kind of thinking that has gotten you into this situation in the first place!"

Lawrence dropped the letters when he had attacked. They swirled and scattered on the ground. Teague lunged for them. Norrington's kick caught him in the ribs. Next, his cutlass went flying into darkness. There was a quiet splash below. One of them would die, probably him if he stayed. Teague dived off the rocks after his weapon, knowing full well that he had pushed the Admiral into frenzy. A bullet cut the air by his head, and he smiled devilishly. _You always were a poor shot, Admiral._ The water roared in his ears, black and endless, just like the time itself. His pocket watch was going to be ruined. It made twenty three more unsteady ticks and then went still and silent.


	13. Chapter 13

Note: I know it sucks to think about it, but the anti-slavery movement didn't even begin until 1772, thus a lot of the characters we like wouldn't be opposed to it as it was considered normal. The slaves, although there were arguments against, weren't legally considered human. I've tried my best to compromise when it came to Jack's and James' morality on the subject. I've made them unsympathetic to the trade, but not in any way freedom advocates for the human rights. This is why James says living beings rather than men.

In any case, Part II of the story begins. 23 years following. Enjoy. =)

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><p>The<em> Blue Piranha<em> was a dodgy place. The pub was so filthy that even the cockroaches were willing to pack their bags and go in search of the more luxurious accommodations. A couple of them skulked past the chairs of the two men who were sharing a table. One sat with his feet on top of the table, nursing his drink on his stomach. His hat sat low on his forehead, but below the brim his black eyes were alert. Once so often, he threw evaluating glances at the crowd in contrast with his completely relaxed pose that could have fooled anyone into thinking that this man had nothing better to do than idle his day away. His partner, a man in his late twenties, sat quite rigidly with a straight back, leaning slightly over the table with a non committal expression. His elbows rested on the table and his palms supported his chin, meanwhile his long legs were bent at the knees and tucked under his chair. It looked like the pair was having a most idle conversation.

In truth, the pair was far from relaxed. They were hiding from retribution. Their recent plan to return the _Black Pearl_ to the rightful Captain had failed, and once again they were bereft and adrift without a ship.

The plan had not been too bad. They've set sail to confirm the rumours about the curse. In Jack terms it meant tracking down the _Black Pearl_, finding a way to sneak aboard and confirming the rumours first hand. Then, if there really was a curse, it was a matter of discovering what would lift it and obtaining the means in question ahead of Barbossa, then using that to bargain it in exchange for the ship. Except, they've never managed to catch up with the _Black_ _Pearl_ the rumours of which were most elusive. Even Jack's compass was not too effective at tracking her down. With the ship constantly on the move, if they didn't identify her approximate location beforehand they could spend forever following the whimsical path of the needle. Be as it may Jack tried, and their crew suddenly found themselves on the receiving end of the Royal Navy cannons where the compass had led them. It was the worst luck for the pirates. Their ship had been sunk.

Now, a lot of people were looking for them: those who have lent them the ship, the Navy whom they've escaped by a hair and their crew that had been unpaid and had threatened an unsavoury murder of their Captain and the first mate. Thus, the pair had made their escape in the middle of the night and eventually wound their way back to Tortuga. Jack's search plan that he was currently trying to salvage seemed more dubious than ever. They were drinking away their problems. Or rather, Jack was drinking and sulking, and James was glaring into his mug like into emptiness. His mind was far away from the _Black Pearl_.

"Hey, mate, you aren't listening to me," Jack told him, getting tired talking to himself. He nudged an empty bottle with a tip of his boot. It rolled across the table and bumped into James who raised his eyes at him.

"I've been thinking about that ambush," said James. "It was far too clever." It seemed like the ship that had attacked them had been warned.

If Jack had thought so too, he had shrugged it off. "Admiring our enemy, are you? Perhaps you should consider joining the Navy," he said. Brooding was a dreadfully tiresome task, and he had enough of it for one day. His brother's closed off expression was not helping the matter. Something about that encounter with the Navy had drawn James into one of the moods when he hardly talked, that ever has annoyed Jack who always wanted to know what was on someone's mind. However, it looked like his teasing was not going to work.

"Sure. They're waiting for me with the open arms," James muttered sarcastically but no less moodily. A gash on his leg throbbed dully, reminding him about the battle and exactly the kind of arms that were waiting for him, either pistols or the executioner.

"It's life. You never know where you may end up, and I wouldn't be surprised if one day you'd join them, given your parents. The blood always shows itself," Jack commented, taking in James' pose with dissatisfaction. His brother never did fully learn how to relax. His back and shoulders were squared and set evenly. He always maintained a straight-back posture that was so rare among the pirates.

James shifted uncomfortably. He swirled the content of his mug as if the blurry liquid contained answers somewhere in its depths. It was better to look at his drink, the cleanness of which was a suspect, then drinking it. "Sometimes, I feel that I've been born with at least half the pirate blood. Not only because I've been raised by one, but because everything I've heard about my mother was from the fragment of her life when she was aboard the pirate ship, upon Teague's recollection. This makes her seem like a pirate, although nothing is further from the truth. She chose to be a civilian, and she knew where she belonged."

Jack poured his drink into his mouth, succumbing to the melancholy after all. In Teague's company, James sometimes was willing to talk about his mother, but after their failed attempt to return him to his father he had never raised that topic again in twenty three years. His adaptability had won, and no one had ever suspected his past. Teague's lessons how to keep secrets were astounding. He even kept it a secret from many that he was related to Jack, and with James it was no different. James became an inseparable partner to Jack in his many enterprises. Most of the time Jack interacted with James like he was his blood brother, but sometimes subtle things, minor gestures or slips in his speech suddenly reminded him of a different world. Jack wondered if his brother had ever thought about it. He never indicated that he was unhappy or desiring a change, but it frustrated Jack to no end how stubbornly James could keep some of his secrets. Jack understood what it meant to have inner conflicts where his fate was concerned. Was James wondering what might have happened to his mother had she chosen to be a pirate or was he wondering what his life might have been like had their attempt been successful, Jack couldn't tell. He didn't feel like prying.

"Some choices only look good from a distance, but when you get close they are full of peril. You may decide that you don't want them after all," Jack commented. He tugged at his sleeve, hiding from view a spot where a brand P was burned into his flesh.

James noticed the subtle movement. He had seen this gesture before. Jack's most unpleasant memories were reflected in it.

Ten years ago, Jack had fulfilled his dream and bought the position of the Privateer from the East Trading Company. For a high price, they have given him temporary, three month license and asked a favour of him to solidify their deal. Upon the successful completion, he was to gain the permanent Letters of the Marque, giving him protection, unless he would break one of the articles of their agreement. But, he had to prove himself to the Company by transferring a valuable party of slaves aboard the _Black Pearl_ to South America.

This is when the first discord had happened between them. James never gave slavery much thought. It was part of the world economy, and that was it. But he always had bad bad feeling in interacting with the slave traders. There was something in their manners that both disgusted and alarmed him. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with the trade that was dangerous and unpleasant. The slave trading ships were frequently targeted due to their valuable cargo, it was messy and unpleasent with so many of the slaves dying on the way, and James simply didn't like it although he couldn't explain why.

James recalled the cloudy day when he and Jack have gotten into an argument. "A man must do what he must do to survive," Jack told him. "That is exactly what's expected of me. This is why the Company entrusts me with such a ticklish matter. Because who do they see when they're looking at me – a pirate."

"You don't need this to survive," James spat bitterly. Trying to instill common sense in Jack that day seemed impossible. "I see a man claiming to value freedom more than his life who is willing to take it away from hundreds of other living beings to gain his," he used his last argument. He turned his back on his brother and stormed away across the plank to the shore. Jack had called after him, but James had ignored him.

James hadn't heard from Jack in three long years. Much later, the news had reached him that Captain Sparrow had released the slaves at the African coast, thus earning the wrath of Cutler Beckett. The East Trading Company had sent ten ships to capture the _Black Pearl_. Jack had been hunted down until there was nowhere to run. He had narrowly escaped the gallows with Teague's help and had re-gained his ship. Then, he had disappeared once again.

It was a coincidence that James and Jack had accidentally run into each other on Aruba when both came home to recover from their adventures. Jack was no longer the Captain of the _Black Pearl_, although he kept calling himself that. After saving Jack, Teague had located James and called on him to help with enforcing the Code of Brethren laws that had been violated by some of the coast pirates. James had noticed that day that Teague was no longer wearing his Pirate Lord ring. When their task was complete, Teague had sent him home.

Their friendship had been re-established but Jack, who usually shared a lot with his brother, grew more secretive. James had heard that the _Black Pearl_ had sunk, but after he had escaped the gallows, if not the branding, Jack had Captained her for a couple of years until his first mate Barbossa had staged a mutiny. 'You were a way better first mate than he was', Jack had informed James the day as he was outlining his plans to search for his stolen ship. He had evaded clarifying what happened to the _Black Pearl_. A margin of trust had been lost between them, although James would willingly give his life to save Jack. He knew his brother wouldn't do the same for him, not that he wouldn't try to help as much as possible, and that was fine with James. He had accepted that this was the kind of man Jack was.

His contemplation was interrupted by a group of pirates busting into the pub. They kicked the doors open, stumbling, cursing and looking worse for wear as they charged the bar. The pirates kicked everything out of their way while shouting profanities. They were limping and looked like they had recently escaped a big fight.

"Get us rum and more of it!" yelled one of them. "Blasted Admiral Norrington, curse his cannons and his Port Royal to the Locker, shot us right out of the water. Half the crew died. We can use a good drink."

That made James snort into his mug, but then a serious wrinkle appeared on his forehead. Jack sensed that he has finally gotten to the root of the problem that had his brother so withdrawn.

"Jack, I've been thinking. I want to see my father."

Jack dropped his mug and stared at his brother humourlessly.

"I want to go," repeated James stubbornly. His jaw was set firmly which bode that he will do as he thought. "We need a break from searching for your ship regardless. Who knows, our luck might be as good at finding her there as it is in this place."

Jack very much doubted that Port Royal was the place where his ship would appear. He had no doubt that after the newly arrived have given Norrington's location away, James would go anywhere else. On the other hand, a break was a good idea, especially since their creditors would never think of looking for them in Port Royal. "All right, mate. Then, I think I know where I can find us a boat," he conceded.


	14. Chapter 14

Note: Happy Thanksgiving Day, dear readers. =)

Will is too young to be a Commodore. So, a cookie but no chocolate chips for him.

If James' grandfather had a brother, that man would be Lawrence's uncle or James' great uncle.

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

The sun rose gloriously behind Jack as if to light and bless the way ahead of his ship. He stood on the topmast with the most determined expression like a great explorer about to discover and conquer the new and dangerous land ahead. He certainly was no less glad than all those adventurers, after many endless days of traveling, to see the dim outline rising in the distance, given the hopelessly irreparable state of his means of transportation. He was calculating how to reach the shore with his companion before the sea has claimed for treasure yet another one of his vessels.

"Jack, stop monkeying around and help me get the water out," James demanded. He got up from the bench and gave the rope that Jack was holding onto a big tug. Jack half-lost his balance and was forced to jump down. He made a big splash in the ankle deep water.

"Whatever you say, bossy short cakes," he replied, however doing nothing to follow the suggestion.

James shot him a downward glare from his six foot one. "I insist that you stop calling me short cakes."

Jack grinned unabashed. "But the look on your face every time I do is priceless."

"Find yourself a different source of entertainment," James suggested, shoving a bucket he had been inseparable from since the sunrise into Jack's hands.

Jack wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I happen to be in the possession of the Pirate Lord ring, so I should be the one giving the orders around here. I say, you get the water out."

James regarded him thoroughly unimpressed. He was long used to Jack's tactics in getting others to do the unpleasant tasks, such as keeping the water from overflowing their dinghy. "I cannot believe that Teague has given the ring to you. He would have been better off naming a cuttlefish his successor."

"He nearly did name a cuttlefish his successor," Jack replied, regarding the bucket like it was the above mentioned cuttlefish that was contesting his right to his place in the piracy hierarchy.

"He doubted your will to be a true pirate," James told him.

"He doesn't have to doubt it after my escapade with Beckett. I realise now that piracy is the best course for me."

The conversation was unexpectedly taking a turn far too serious for Jack's liking. James sensed it, although there was a bantering layer covering it. Yet, he didn't want to evade the subject forever. He thought he could offer more insight to Jack into his father because he had been traveling with Teague while Jack was on the other end of the sea. Teague may not have spent a lot of time with his family, but he always knew what was in their hearts, creepily enough sometimes even better than they did. "This is why he had sought you out after you've been branded to pass the ring. He wanted to be sure that the new Pirate Lord will be loyal to the Brethren. He had been waiting for you to choose what you wanted to do with your life before he could be sure that you were the right person to succeed him. He wanted to become the Code Keeper for many years. He was glad that you have given him that at last. He was proud of you that day."

"That was a very inspiring speech," Jack mock bowed theatrically. "I am thoroughly delighted that all the misunderstandings between me and my father have been settled, with the exception of the fact that we have sunk the _Misty Maiden_ thanks to the help of the Royal Navy."

"Hold on, are you trying to help me see my father or are you going to Port Royal to steal a ship because you blame the Navy for the loss of the _Misty Maiden_?"

"May I engage your imagination as to imagining what my father will do to us if we do not promptly replace his ship with something of the superior value? Not to mention, my personal standards have to be met."

James barely refrained from the 'told you so' comment. He had tried talking Jack out of borrowing Teague's ship. "Indeed, for a Pirate Lord your ship accommodations sure haven't improved. I recall a much similar to this one dinghy that you've commanded at the age of fourteen. And this one's about to meet the same fate as the last one, be sunk," James reminded, clearly indicating that he hadn't been distracted and expected Jack to put the bucket to work.

Just then, they've entered the waters of Port Royal. A cove with a three skeletons appeared on their port side. It was a depressing sight. The corpses had roped wrapped around their necks. They were dressed in the remainders of some filthy rags, and their bones rattled in the wind. An ominous sign 'pirates ya beware' hung above them, telling in no uncertain terms what will happen to any less than law obeying visitors their fate. Jack dropped the bucket. He took off his hat and placed it dramatically above his heart to commemorate his fallen brethren.

"Slacker," James muttered. "Well, I'm not doing anymore work with the bucket either." He leaned against their only mast and crossed his hands on his chest. "I hope you are ready to get the salt water in your boots."

"Amen," said Jack.

They've made it to dock before they could get wet. They stood on the mast on two different sides for balance. James placed his hand over the top of the mast to spite his brother by showing him that he was taller. Both of them disembarked an instant before the topmast submerged.

Their mostly dry heels made satisfactory clicks against the dock as they strutted into the port. Their victorious march was halted by an authoritative voice that was loud, and certainly had the potential to grow louder, which would attract unnecessary attention, if his inquiry was not satisfied.

"Hold it right there, you two," he commanded. "It's a shilling to tie your boat at the dock."

The pair spared one last glance at their former boat the tip of which was barely visible below the surface of the water. They've retraced their steps backwards to a man who was primarily defined by a large recording book he was holding.

"And I need to know your names," said the man, peering at the two of them through his glasses.

"What say you to three shillings, and we forget the names?" Jack offered.

The man raised his eyebrow. James rolled his eyes. Stupid Jack wasn't going to pay. James produced three shillings and laid them on top of the page. The man threw a speculative glance at the boy by his side, who was about as big as the book that he was in charge of carrying whenever the man was not writing in it, and then the coins disappeared with such quickness that it became evident that it wasn't the first time he had been offered a compensation for his oversight.

"Welcome to Port Royal, Mr and Mr Smith," he announced, closing the book with a satisfactory clap.

Jack gave a small bow as the pair took their leave. As they made it further down the dock, Jack nearly bumped into a stand that was designated for the recording book because he was too distracted examining all the nearby ships. There was a small wallet abandoned on top of the stand. Jack wasn't taken aback by his near collision and picked up his bounty. He jingled the few coins inside and transferred the wallet with flourish into his pocket. James with just as much flourish stole it from Jack's pocket.

"You go ahead and steal a quick peek at your pops, and I'm going shopping," said Jack. He rolled his eyes, clearly indicating what he meant by 'shopping'.

"Fine then, but don't go sailing away without me," James warned. He was not too thrilled, afraid that Jack might cause trouble before he'd find his father, but he also saw the wisdom in having a ship in case they needed to leave the port in haste.

"Mate, I'm offended. Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?"

"I've doubted you ever since I was nine after you've traded me as a 'safe keep' for a rowing boat, and I've been made a servant to a few thugs."

"We were desperate. We needed that boat to row to the island to find the you know what. I had every intention of coming back for you."

"But you didn't. You've wrecked the boat and failed to find the you know what."

"I've found it. Except, it wasn't what we thought it was. It was still the you know what, but not a magical you know what that we wanted."

"Those thugs didn't care."

"I had all the confidence in your ability to run away from them."

"That doesn't make you any more worthy of my trust. If you abandon me in this wasp nest, I will find you and shoot you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably," Jack said with a salute. Behind them, the wallet's disappearance didn't go unnoticed, and he hurried to bow out and separate from his partner. James followed his example to put some distance between him and the dock.

In spite of having not the slightest clue where he was going, he gave no impression of such. He found the main street and walked along it with the confidence of a man who had lived in town for the past twenty years. He studied leisurely the entire length of the street, taking in the signs and various buildings. The port was prosperous with god roads. What surprised him was the number of people. The streets were relatively empty for a town that large.

James pushed the door of the nearest pub where his reception was guaranteed to be warm due to the lack of other visitors. The barman was friendly fellow. He filled James' mug over the top and sat down beside him, since his visitor appeared to be in the mood for conversation. James made up a story that he had been out of town for the past two months, running a tobacco shipments with his brother.

"I've expected the port to be busier," James concluded his tale. "It seems too empty, even in such a solid establishment as yours there isn't a soul to be found."

"Everyone's up at the fort," said Joe the barman. "Admiral Norrington's son has been promoted to Captain. A lot of people are gathering to watch the ceremony. All the important people are there, the Governor's and the Admiral's family and all their friends. I've been thinking of going myself, but after the ceremony everyone will come running this way, and I better keep my door open so no man will be denied a good drink."

"Aye, your drink is excellent," said James, raising his mug appreciatively. "That ceremony sounds interesting. I'd like to see it if I'm not too late."

James finished his drink in a couple of gulps. He put the stolen wallet on the table as a generous pay, and gestured for the barman to keep the change, thus taking the sting of disappointment out of his departure.

The fort was not difficult to find because the towering stone structure was visible from everywhere. James was quick to locate the source of the commotion within. He mingled with the crowd. His height and elbow work carved a path for him to a more advantageous location where he could see the honour places better, although not close enough. The inner circle of the guests was guarded by the soldiers. The barkeeper told him that his father was nearly the most important man at the fort, so James looked up at the elevated platform where two men were conversing. They were about the same age and height as is father; one of them was dressed in a military uniform. A young woman who was energetically fanning herself stood beside them. She didn't look well. James realised that over time his father's features have been nearly erased from his memory. All he had left was a vague memory and his feelings. Twenty three years have changed the Admiral too, making recognition more so difficult. Not only that, but Lawrence also had a new life because there was another son in it.

The drums rolled and a young man appeared at the end of the alley of raised weapons. He walked through it with a small smile and his hands clasped behind his back, but James could tell that he was nervous. Becoming the Captain was a big responsibility for someone no older than twenty. His smile, however, became more genuine when his eyes met the eyes of the young woman. He accepted the sword from the hands of the Admiral, or so James had guessed that the highest ranking officer was the most suitable figure to supervise the promotion. The young man tested his new sword with a few confident moves that were as perfect as the finely crafted blade. His skill was unsurprising, considering that his father was one of the best swordsmen who must have personally taught his son how to use that weapon.

The blade along with the air was slicing his heart, opening up his long concealed wounds. James dropped his eyes, suddenly wishing that he hadn't seen this ceremony or the smile with which Lawrence had presented the sword and which he had never shared with James. As far as he remembered, Lawrence had been a very serious man who had never showed affection. He was so proud of his younger son. Whereas, he has considered James a coward and a disappointment, and he probably was too ashamed to even remember that he had another son. It had been a mistake to come. Yet, James couldn't leave. He watched the ceremony entirely, mostly drawn to one man.

When the ceremony was over, the crowd began to disperse, whereas the inner circle was invited to continue the party at the inner platform of the fort. James spotted a couple up at the front, a fierce man looming protectively above a girl who wore a long, flowing skirt. James subtly moved towards them and hitched the skirt to the end of the soldier's weapon. As the couple tried to leave, the girl felt something tugging her skirt and gasped. Her protector growled when he saw the problem and expressed his discontent, getting into a tangle with the soldier. James used the gap in the security to slip past undetected.

He was too consumed by his task to get closer to his father to notice that his attire stood out too much from the remaining group. The guests were the highest ranking citizens of the port who wore their best finery for the occasion. One of the soldiers picked him out and followed him suspiciously.

James continued to watch the central group. His mind was telling him that this was his father, but a nagging doubt remained. He wanted to get closer, close enough to see his face clearly. The Admiral, as if feeling that he was watched, glanced in his direction. James hurried to step behind a pillar. When he looked again, the Captain separated from the group and was coming directly towards him. James ducked behind the pillar once more, but the Captain thought nothing of him. He asked the woman, called Elizabeth, to speak with him privately. They've passed so close to James that he could have touched them. James had a feeling that he had seen the Captain somewhere before, but for some reason Jack looked more like his blood brother than this man. James puzzled over it, as the pair went through an arch to the battlements, not sure if he should get to the bottom of this peculiarity.

The soldier had enough of this suspicious individual. He approached James and tapped his shoulder, stepping so close that their shoulder nearly touched. "This area is designated for the Admiral's friends and family only," he said. The soldier didn't want to disturb the peace by making a showy arrest, and spoke quietly enough just for the two of them to hear. "As I haven't seen you before, I must know who you are and who has invited you."

James faced the man with an absolute calmness. One of the important survival rules was always pretending to be sure. Anyone who expected him to be caught off guard may begin to doubt their own conclusions if he reacted like he had done no wrong. "I'm a relative, you could say," James answered. He had been told by Jack that his voice was too distinguishable, thus he added an accent and spoke gruffly. "Are you familiar with Edmund Norrington on the authority of whose great nephew I've been invited?"

"Not at all," the soldier told him, certain that such man didn't exist at all.

"Shame, because he was an excellent man, absolutely adored by his wife and every aunt and niece of his, which is expected of my father's father's brother, who happens to be a great uncle of mine."

The solider didn't appear interested in genealogy, although he did keep track of what James was saying. "It is in your best interest to tell the truth because I will be able to check validity of your claims," he warned.

"It's a good thing I've told you the truth then." James smiled at him disarmingly. He clapped the soldier's shoulder and made a step around him towards the arch. He wondered how high the battlements were overlaying the sea. Jumping down was probably a safer route than battling his way through the yard filled with the soldiers.

"I must take you to the Admiral then to confirm your statement," the soldier informed him. He didn't really intend to take this man, who was evidently up to no good, to the Admiral. He wanted to catch him on a lie. "I hope you understand that it is my duty, otherwise, anyone can claim to be anyone. Some may even claim being their own uncles, but I cannot be expected to believe them."

"Apparently, you have never been to Singapore," James informed him, edging backwards through the arch. "I've seen someone who was their own mother in law. You cannot pass judgement on foreign traditions."

"Granted. However, providing that you really do have a great uncle, it means that you are his great nephew, and you've claimed earlier that you've been invited on the authority of your great uncle's great nephew, which means that you've invited yourself."

"You've asked for no lies. As you have deducted, I've been completely honest with you. Therefore, it serves to prove that I am a truthful man who can be trusted to be who he says he is. Your suspicions of me are entirely invalid."

Seeing that he wasn't going to win this debate, the soldier resolved to use force. James dodged him and both of them passed through the arch where the most alarming picture unfolded. The Captain stood with his back turned to the young lady as she collapsed off the battlement.

"Uh, will you be saving that?" James asked quickly.

"I can't swim!"

"Elizabeth!" the Captain shouted, finally noticing her fall. His distressed shout attracted far too many people. He began to remove his jacket, but someone grabbed him.

"Sir, the rocks!"

James was in no position to be choosy. He shoved his weapons at the soldier else he feared he'd be shoved into a cell, and unstopped by anyone, since no one cared about his well being, jumped into the sea. It was a frightening fall with the rocks rapidly coming towards him. His shoulder flared with pain when he scraped it on one of them. He was nearly knocked unconscious by the fall, but he didn't return to the surface for air and persisted in swimming to the bottom, having caught sight of the unconscious woman.

She was heavy. He barely pulled her to the surface. They've submerged again due to the weight of her dress. James felt a heavy push upwards and saw Jack by his side sliding his hand around the woman's waist to free James from the burden. In his other hand he held his old knife which he used to cut her dress. The underwater tangle had consumed their energy, and they've reached the surface with the greatest effort. There were docks to their left. They've swam that way, avoiding more rocks. They've hauled the woman onto the dock and helped each other climb up. Jack checked the woman for the signs of life.

James doubled over, breathing shallowly. Blood was dripping down his arm, and his vision temporarily blurred. He heard a quiet splash. Quickly, he looked behind him only to find an empty space where Jack had been moments ago.

A blade pressed into his neck almost piercing his skin. "On your feet," he heard a steel-like order. James almost could have sworn that he was the one who had said that, so similar to his own was the voice. His sight followed along the sword and the arm up to the man's face. All his doubts have disappeared, and James faultered unable to see an enemy in spite of every line in Lawrence that spoke of resentment for him. The Admiral had been and remained a hard man. He observed his about to become prisoner without the slightest bit of sympathy. James sensed that no man present had liked him, but Lawrence hated him the most. James instantly dropped his head. He stood up with difficulty, hunching and avoiding the eye contact. The bandana slid down to his eyes. He had a short beard that had grown during their voyage to Port Royal. He hoped that no one saw any resemblance to the man who stood in front of him, not that anyone would look for it.

In the corner of his eye he saw the woman helped up by the Captain and another man who appeared to be entirely scandalised by her half undressed state. "Shoot him," the man ordered. The woman protested, claiming that James was her saviour. He wondered why she said nothing about Jack. She had been unconscious when Jack had cut the laces of her corset, maybe she didn't notice him or she just didn't want to give him away out of gratitude. The Admiral was swayed by her plea and sheathed his weapon.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Ja… Jack, just Jack," James told him, deepening his voice even more so.

"Very well, just Jack, I believe the thanks are in order."

Lawrence offered his hand. James, after the brief hesitation, wasn't able to resist. His father's grip instantly locked around him like an iron ring. Lawrence jerked him closer. He pushed James' open collar further apart and examined the silver pendant that hung around his neck.

"Well, well, well," he drawled out. "Jack Sparrow."


	15. Chapter 15

Through the bars of his cell's window James could see the yellowish fog crawling across the water into the port, promising a ghostly night. He grasped the bars and gave them a powerful shake, wondering if this might be his escape route, but the iron and stone structure showed no weakness or signs of decay.

The depressing landscape was not contributing to improving his mood. James slid down onto the ground where he arranged his limbs, sitting cross-legged. He tore off a piece of his shirt and tried to bandage his shoulder awkwardly as it began to bleed again. In the background he heard how the prisoners from the neighbouring cell were attempting to lure a shaggy dog towards them, but having nothing except their unattractive faces to offer, the attempt was failing miserably, and the keys that the dog was guarding have woefully remained out of their reach.

James hoped that Jack had been able to get away without raising anyone's suspicions, and would come to break him out, not that two soldiers stationed on top of the stairs to guard the jail would make the task easy. He had better try. Jack had left him without a warning as bait while he hid under the dock from the approaching soldiers. His plan had nearly been discovered when the Admiral suspiciously regarded the corset that had been abandoned in haste by a soldier. 'He has a knife, search him.' Of course, they've found no knife because it was Jack who had cut the laces. Thus, James had to lie that he threw the knife into the water, pointing far away from the dock. He was clad in irons shortly and marched away, left to escape on his own devices.

He almost did get away thanks to a conveniently placed pulley right on the dock, although that bit involved getting showered by a rain of lead accompanied by a long duck and run along the streets. Lucky for James, he had collided with some unfortunate thief who had been making a poor attempt at a break in, and who had been completely spooked as James ran into him. The thief, making a huge racket, sprinted in the opposite direction thinking that James was the devil who came to collect his soul for the purgatory for his sins, thus leading a large group of soldiers that had been chasing James after him. Bloodied, with his face blackened by the gunfire smoke and bearing the rattling chains, to a man with a guilty conscience James had been a most convincing sight.

Temporarily relived of his pursuers, James had managed to sneak into the smithy which he had spotted earlier, thinking that he had gotten away, when of all the people in the world, the Captain didn't get fooled by the false trail and came to investigate the most likely place in town where the irons could be removed. The confrontation had been unavoidable, although James had tried.

"Are you sure it's wise to cross blades with the pirate, boy?" he asked, circling the other. He had to knock the man unconscious and get away before someone else figured out where he might be hiding. He thought he saw an opening on the left and went for it, only to be blocked and forced a step back.

"That's Captain Turner to you, pirate."

This certainly was the day of revelations. James vaguely recalled a crewman of the _Black Pearl_ with the same name but barely. Due to his fight with Jack over the Privateer arrangement, he had left before he could get to know the man. It had to be a coincidence anyway with every man being a Turner almost as frequently as a Smith. However, he wanted a more detailed explanation why the Captain was regarded as the Admiral's son. The curiosity got better of James.

"What happened to the good old tradition where sons inherit their family names? Unless the Admiral has finally grown an imagination in his advanced age and decided to name his son after a famous pirate," he inquired quite poisonously. His taunt worked better than he expected.

"My father was an honest merchant, as was my mother an honest woman to her last day!" Turner yelled, fortified by a sense of righteousness, and giving away that Lawrence had not remarried. "And don't you dare insult my adoptive father! I will never be able to repay all the good will he has shown me, including teaching me what to do if I meet a pirate – kill it!"

What he thought to be a dignified reply was not enough, and Turner unleashed a series of attacks on his opponent with such passion that James was hard pressed to defend himself. He dodged, and ran in circles around the donkey, using the animal as his shield and even sitting on top of it until the offended creature had attempted to bite him.

Whoever the boy's father was, Lawrence's influence on him was evident. That is, a complete lack of a sense of humour, but he certainly knew which pointy end of the sword should go inside the pirate. Flawless technique aside, the boy was not experienced enough in dealing with the landscape obstacles that were plentiful in the smithy. James didn't hesitate to hurl various objects at his attacker. When the Captain tripped over one of them and landed on his face, James ran for the door. As he reached for the latch, a sword wheezed past and buried deep into the wood, nearly cutting off his nose. His attempt to remove it was unsuccessful; meanwhile, the Captain re-armed himself. James turned to his opponent with the first inklings of desperation. Surely, the soldiers have already caught that thief and were looking for him again.

"That's a very nice trick, but you would have been better off letting me walk out of here, get myself a boat and sail far, far away, so you'd never hear from me again," he warned, but it fell on the deaf ears. With his patience wearing thin, James stood his ground when a new assault came and pushed his opponent back, now trying for the only other exit left in the smithy.

"Even if you kill me, I doubt that you will get very far no matter which boat you choose with the _Interceptor_ at our disposal."

"Never heard of her," said James, throwing a rusty bucket over the Captain's head and trying to sneak around him. Normally, his tactics weren't so dirty, but James was severely limited in what he could do to the man. He couldn't kill or severely injure someone dear to his father. He almost succeeded, but Turner grabbed him across the waist and they've lost balance and rolled around in a tangle. The Captain by this point looked hardly distinguishable from James with his beautiful lace cuffs drooping down sorrowfully and the parade uniform smudged and ripped, but the sorry state didn't apply to his spirit, and he was more determined than ever to upper hand the pirate.

"She only happens to be the fastest ship in these waters, but I don't expect an ignorant pirate to know that," Turner replied stoically.

"I can think of a faster ship. She's called the _Black Pearl_."

"That's not a real ship."

James only smirked at him loftily.

"You are trying to convince me that there is a ship crewed by the damned and Captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him right out."

"Even if we give you the benefit of the doubt and you've just proven that such man doesn't exist, it doesn't prove, however, that such ship doesn't exist just because there is no such a man."

Turner buried his knee into James' stomach and freed his sword arm from the hold, taking a swing that was enough to take off a head had James been still. James evaded him again and jumped onto a cart, once more on the defensive. He stepped on some lose board, getting Turner square in the chin with the other end, but it wasn't enough to knock him unconscious. The man was harder to get rid of than a pack of the vicious Siamese cats that have been guarding an Egyptian Pyramid and relentlessly chased them through a maze for five days after Jack had borrowed something of significant value from their deceased Pharaoh.

James was getting tired, and his throbbing shoulder was starting to effect his fighting. Another attack had sent his sword flying. He dodged and backed into a corner. Instinctively, he grabbed the nearest bag and spilled its content onto Turner. A cloud of sand dimmed the smithy, blinding the Captain. James kicked the sword out of his hand and pointed his pistol at his opponent. Both of them froze awkwardly with the Captain holding a crowbar that he had blindly grabbed, midway poised for a strike.

"This has been a most educational encounter, but now I want you to get out of my way," James demanded.

The Captain raised his chin defiantly and his grasp on the crowbar tightened. They've heard shouts by the smithy and then someone attempted to push the door open.

"I encourage you strongly to leave the role of the stubborn ass to the donkey," said James.

"I cannot let your escape."

James flicked the safety clutch off with his finger, realising with a sinking feeling that the man was not going to yield. Kill him or face death himself. There wasn't enough time to solve this dilemma.

"Ok, then I'll shoot the donkey."

"I'll club you over the head with the crowbar if you as much as try to alter your aim."

"Or I can pull the trigger and you will never see another crowbar or donkey again unless you move."

"That will not be happening."

"Please move!" James repeated, something in his voice betrayed him. There were dull thuds behind him. The door was far too feeble to withstand an entire army on the other side.

The Captain must have seen his hesitation. Like in a dream, he reached out slowly and pried the gun from James' unresisting fingers. They both stared at each other in shock. The door gave way and flew off the hinges. James heard the stomping of the boots behind him, but made no move to run. Something crashed into the back of his head, and the Captain finally disappeared.

James came around only in the cell, sour and with a raging headache. He had soon discovered that there was no convenient exit. James rubbed his aching temples and grinned ruthfully. Beaten up, imprisoned and waiting to be taken to the gallows; that was approximately how he had imagined his family reunion. The rest of his faint hopes have been nothing but delusions. Perhaps, he had overestimated Jack as well who could be half way to Tortuga by now. Something unpleasant twisted in his chest at a thought of another betrayal.

As if summoned by his thoughts, James suddenly heard a familiar voice.

"Up there, at the fort, the Admiral said, they've caught a man! They want you to escort him to jail. Said, it's urgent," someone ranted with long pauses and gasps for air.

James leaped to his feet and strained his hearing, trying to make out an argument on the top of the stairs.

"Someone has to guard the jail. We cannot leave our post," one of the soldiers was saying.

"Well, I'm done here," conceded the panting man easily. "I did my job. It's not like I can guard the jail for you while you run real quick to the fort to follow the Admiral's order. You probably don't want to see him anyway, he sure looked angry."

The soldiers thought it was actually a very bad idea not to follow the orders while the Admiral was in a bad mood, else they might end up doing a far less pleasant job than guarding the jail. They've impressed on the man that they very much wanted him to keep watch while they ran to the fort. After lengthily argument the man accepted.

"But please be quick about it," he pleaded. "I don't like all these prisoner folk, even if they are locked in."

There was a lengthily pause, and then the dog perked up his ears and tilted his head towards the stairs. The entire population of the jail sensed that something important was about to happen and silence fell over them. First a hand gliding along the wall and then a man entered the jail cautiously. His gaze flickered around the place, disdainfully passing over the other prisoners, and stopped on James.

Jack was wearing a respectable suit and a hat made of good cloth that was hiding his distinctive haircut. He looked like a wealthy artisan who somehow had gotten lost on his way to a banquet. The other prisoners have mistaken him for just that and gave him a predatory look that said they wouldn't have minded robbing him in a dark alley.

"Share your fortune with me good sir," said one of the prisoners in a long, whining voice. "Be merciful to the man condemned, and I shall pray for you from Heaven."

Jack strutted towards the cell bemused as to who could be thinking of begging for money when their life was soon to be ended. He waved his finger under the prisoner's nose, and side stepped an attempt to get into his pocket.

"It seems to me that you aren't in a position to be going to Heaven, though an afterlife is another matter. So, I'll be requiring a better form of gratitude from you. If you have some randomly important piece of news or a small secret for the old Jack, I'll be accepting that in exchange for my sharing," he said educationally, running a gold coin nimbly through his fingers.

The prisoners watched, entranced by the flicker or metal, but they weren't sure what this man would consider a valuable information.

"I've heard that you can walk underwater in the shallows if you flip the boat and carry it above your head because there will be air stuck to the inner part of it," volunteered one of them.

"Cannot, you lying octopus-face. There's water only in the water no matter how the boat is flipped," said the other prisoner, not wanting the gold coin to go to his cellmate. The other only bared his teeth at him, not taking his eyes off the hynotizing circle.

Jack tapped his chin as if considering how much that information was worth.

"Money, money," the beggar reminded, tugging Jack's sash.

Jack flipped a coin through the bars. The pirates made a pile up fighting for it.

No longer rudely interrupted, Jack sauntered over to James' cell. "Now, what do you think yer doing ruining my reputation like that?" he inquired breezily. "I am and would like to remain the uncatchable Captain Jack Sparrow."

James bit back a retort that it was due to Jack's lack of warning that he had been caught, and instead grinned at his brother. "Are you? I'm not seeing any Captain around here. Only a man who almost looks respectable enough for me to trust him with my money," he complimented subtly, knowing that Jack wouldn't accept any idealistic thanks for his help.

"Is this the way to express your gratitude to your rescuer," Jack pouted, "telling me that I'm a dishonest man after I've risked getting arrested for your sake?"

"Did you now?" James exclaimed, feigning a hearty surprise. "And I thought it was for the sake of whatever it is you've decided to commandeer that's probably too large to make it out of the bay crewed by one man only."

"Let's continue this conversation elsewhere before our naval friends decide to come back," Jack told him as he threw a critical glance around, searching for the keys. James pointed out the dog to him.

"Charming!" Jack exclaimed, swaggering towards the dog.

The dog didn't share the same opinion. The intruder did not inspire his trust in the smallest. He bared his teeth at Jack and backed away with a low growl.

"Now, now be a good poochie and bring the keys over to old Jack," the pirate tried to pacify the animal. He picked up an old bone and crouched down, stretching the offering far in front on him while not forgetting to butter the dog up with the sweet words. The dog seemed to have taken a marginal interest in the bone and slowly crawled towards it. When he was nearly within reach, the dog suddenly darted around Jack, avoiding his grab and sprinted away with the keys clanging on the ring. "No, nononono, come back here!" Jack shouted, chasing the dog towards the exit.

As both of them rapidly disappeared, James leaned his forehead against the bars, muttering, "I'm stuck."

There was a loud crash and Jack re-entered the jail. He was holding the dog by the scruff of the neck, but it was too early to celebrate. Two soldiers followed him in, pointing their guns at him.

"Thought you could trick us, did you?" they said, backing Jack against the bars of James' cell. "There was no emergency, but rest assured, the Admiral will hear of you and figure out what to do about your lies."

Jack shrugged half apologetically, however, not sorry for the other half that were his circumstances which have caused a clash of their interests. "Gentlemen, before you do anything I might regret, perhaps you could clarify the nature of my lies."

"We'll let the Admiral figure that out."

One of the soldiers pried the dog from Jack and then the keys from the dog. "Get into the cell," he ordered after he made sure to poke James out of the way with his gun as he opened the door. He pushed Jack inside while the other soldier kept pointing his gun at him. With the last glower, they've locked the door and left the prisoners to their devices.

"So," said Jack conversationally, "you've got any rum on ya?"

James shook his head and Jack's expression fell. He staggered over to the same window that had been depressing James all night and stared outside mirthlessly. Even the view from their cell did not lead to freedom. Most of it was occupied by a wall that led to the battlements and a row of cannons that protected the port from the hostile intrusions. James thought that at least his father's day had been good with his son being promoted to Captain and a capture of the two dangerous pirates.


	16. Chapter 16

To Artemis: Oh hello, I wanted to respond to you earlier, but you need to be logged into your account, otherwise, I cannot use the reply button. Let me see if I can clarify the relations; they are frequently epicly confusing - thus the delicious irony of confusing others with them. XD

Edmund and William are different characters. Edmund is James' great uncle. William is Lawrence's adopted son. Edmund cannot be William's great uncle because they are not blood relatives. I don't know whether there is such a thing as adoptive great uncle – probably not. I hope this helps. =)

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

Up on the battlements the Admiral sneezed, thinking unkindly if stoically about his night shift. His position allowed him to skip that duty; however, he felt honour bound to take up the watch occasionally. He was accompanied by the Governor Swann who had been much affected by his daughter's near death. Unable to sleep due to the excess of restless energy, he joined Lawrence on his patrol. The two men walked in comfortable silence with the Admiral taking mental notes on the security.

"Ghastly weather," muttered the Governor. He shivered, wishing he had taken his cloak with him at least to protect him emotionally, even if it was of little use against the fog that penetrated all clothing barriers and chilled him to the bones.

"Grim indeed," Norrington agreed. His old shoulder wound began to ache again. It had served him as a constant reminder of the nearly twenty five year old tragedy, always making unpleasant nights more so difficult to bear. He touched it, aware of the scar beneath the thick fabric and rolled his shoulder, willing the dull throbbing to cease.

Swan noticed the telltale gesture which he has gotten to associate with the Admiral over the years. "Old wounds are paining you again," he commented mostly to express concern, aware that they have tried all possible remedies before. He was willing to listen if Lawrence wanted to state what was on his mind.

"They are - courtesy of a pirate. I don't understand why our children insist on taking mercy on these wretched, treacherous beings. The longer they live, the more they lengthen their sentence in Hell," Lawrence replied grimly.

His thoughts turned to the most recently captured pirate. Lawrence had been tempted to take him directly to the gallows from the smithy, but William had protested passionately. They have agreed to deal with the pirate later, as not to spoil William's promotion day.

From his position on the wall, Norrington could see the dark slits that were the jail windows where the man was imprisoned. That pirate certainly had a lot of nerve. One moment he was clad in irons with Gillette securely escorting him, and the next he was up in the air, flying around the mast. There was something about the man that had given Lawrence a pause until the Governor had snapped him out of his stupor. 'Now will you shoot him?' he had demanded. Puzzled by a brief pang of hesitation, Lawrence had given an order to open fire, but the pirate had escaped unscratched.

He had put up quite a spectacle fighting for his life. Both William and Elizabeth were firmly against executing him. William was claiming that the pirate had hesitated to shoot him. Lawrence thought that his son was exaggerating the nobility of the sentiment, but the claims against his better judgement reminded him of one instance, it was more of what could have happened down at the dock. Elizabeth had stepped too close to the prisoner to argue on his behalf as Gillette had shackled the pirate, for a split moment leaving him uncontrolled. The pirate's hand had twitched just a fraction like he had considered throwing the chain around her neck. No one would have been fast enough to stop him; but he had suddenly reconsidered and slumped even further in resignation as the briefest opportunity had passed by. Lawrence refused to consider any motivation other than self-interest. His job was to hang his kind, thus any pitying impulses had to be suppressed.

Seeing that conversation was not forthcoming, Swan changed the subject. "Has my daughter given her answer yet to your son?" he stated the foremost concern that was on his mind. Partially, he had joined the Admiral to discuss the matter. He was of an opinion that it was mutually beneficial for their families to share a relation.

Norrington shook his head a no, but he thought there was no cause to be alarmed. "She's had a trying day, but I'm confident that she fancies William."

"Exactly, she has feelings for your son," said the Governor irritably, "I have no idea why she hasn't given her consent, probably a feminine caprice that defies logic. I am far too lenient with her."

"Whereas, I'm too strict with my son," Lawrence admitted his mistake. "Perhaps your approach is wiser."

"Boys require more discipline to become responsible men," the Governor replied diplomatically. "However, sometimes I wish I could be stricter with my daughter. It must be the appearance of that pirate that has filled her head with the hazardous notions, just when I thought she has shown interest in something more realistic. I must have a serious conversation with her about growing out of these childhood tales and becoming a responsible woman and a good wife. I intend to be strict."

"Don't be too hard on your child, even when you feel like you've lost your mind. Words cannot be taken back. Sometimes the things we say in a fit of anger, we regret all the way to our grave," said Lawrence. He might have been looking at the cannons, but his gaze was turned inward.

"You look tired, my friend," Swann pointed out, realising that Lawrence's melancholy was connected to something in his past that went beyond the events of the day. "Why are you still in the Caribbean? William is old enough to succeed your place. He can take care of Port Royal."

The Admiral arched an eyebrow sceptically. "And where would you have me go? Surely not back to England after I've gotten used to the warmer environment." His mild attempt at humour, however, was entirely unconvincing.

"England would have been a logical choice, given your connections. You could have raised your status above the Admiral years ago and taken a seat at a higher office, had you any inclination to follow your career path."

"At an old age, when you have nothing else, career is a cold comfort."

"Sometimes I think we're too old for our jobs," said the Governor, but he lacked conviction. It was more of a passing moment of weakness than a true desire to retire.

Lawrence didn't answer. He looked at the dark sea, wondering if it would ever take mercy on him. Deep in his heart he held onto a faint hope that one day it will return the son it had taken from him. Only when the sails of the _Misty Maiden_ had disappeared beyond the horizon had the realisation sunk in that James was lost. He had spent nearly a year actively looking for his son, until the Admiralty had informed him that he had to focus on his job. They've been as considerate as they could have given his circumstances, but the tone of their letter had been most succinct. Lawrence complied, with his job being the only thing he had left.

He had missed his son terribly. That's why, when many years ago his crew had rescued a boy from a destroyed merchant ship, Lawrence had adopted him as his own. However, William had been too old to fully integrate into his family. He had always honoured his birth father, even choosing to keep his last name, just as Lawrence had always remembered his son. Sometimes, when Lawrence had watched his antiques, the child would look up at him for approval, and his heart would contract painfully at encountering soft brown instead of green. Lawrence couldn't bring himself to retire and leave the Caribbean. Something he couldn't name but believed in was telling him to stay. He was waiting for a sign.

A greenish flare cut through the fog down in the harbour, followed by several more flares at once.

"What is that noise?" asked Swann, as a low rumble swept over the battlements like a wave.

"Cannon fire!" Lawrence shouted, his military training taking over at once. He tackled the Governor down as the cannons blasted the wall only few feet behind them. As the shower of rubble settled, he swiftly got to his feet and encouraged the Governor to do the same. Guessing that his friend wanted to hurry back to his mansion, Lawrence ordered him to stay at the fort in his office. Judging by the number of shots, it was a ship large enough to land a pillaging party. It would have been most imprudent for the Governor to be out on the streets shall that have happened.

The soldiers took their positions and loaded the fort cannons. Lawrence studied the glowing streaks that showered the port, locating by their trajectory the source. "Return fire!" he commanded, inwardly cursing the fog that has made the attacking ship or perhaps ships next to invisible. Their attackers seemed to have dived out from the bottom of the waves rather than sailing into the port. They could turn half of the town into rubble before the blindly firing fort could damage them, especially if they were on the move.

One of the cannon balls went in the direction of the jail, blasting the wall with such force that the tremor has reached the spot where Lawrence was standing. He spared it an extra curse, thinking that in the aftermath he would have to recapture the prisoners too, unless they've been killed.

"Why do I keep getting shot at so much?" James grumbled. He pushed Jack's foot out of his face, untangling himself from the pile up, created when they've simultaneously ducked. The echo of the explosion still rang in his ears. Anguished howls that came from the neighbouring cell where one of the dying men writhed in agony, were completing the ghostly concert.

Initially, James had thought that the noise was inside his head because he still nursed a considerate lump obtained at the smithy, when Jack had spoken into the silence between them. 'I know those guns.' James had recognised the sound too having been on both ends of those cannons, and went to the window just in time to see a glowing, fiery ball heading towards them.

The jail became increasingly less cozy with a huge draft that came in through a big hole in the wall. The explosion had been close enough to kill them, but not close enough to free them. There was only a couple of inches wide crack in their cell. The survivors of the neighbouring cell were climbing out through a much larger hole on their side, leaving their fallen to die.

"I'm sorry, friends. It's not a matter of luck," the last prisoner told them, and then hurried to catch up with his group.

Jack poked his fingers through the hole, sniffed the bars and then attempted to lick them, but James pulled him back by the scruff of the neck and examined the hole as well. The bars separating the cells were damaged at the bases with the stone crumbling around them. With the proper force James thought he could remove them. He picked up one of the pieces of rubble and set to work, trying to weaken the connecting points.

"We need to make a boom," said Jack. He pulled a bone that he had used to lure the dog with from his vest, crushed it and began mixing it with some black powder.

James didn't answer. He knew that Jack couldn't be persuaded to leave his insane idea alone; meanwhile, he was too tired to argue. The rhythmic banging was starting to hurt his head again, but the bars were slowly weakening under pressure.

One of the thuds coincided with a gunshot. Jack threw his hat over whatever he was doing at the sound of the fight outside. As soon as they hid the signs of their break out activity a soldier rolled down the stairs, dead.

Two pirates followed the corpse. One of them picked up the soldier's gun. "This isn't the armoury," he complained with an edge of promising pain to whoever had misled them into thinking so. His partner, however, caught sight of the prisoners, and his face contorted in a resemblance of a smile.

"Isn't that Jack Sparrow," he stated, taking in his former Captain's accommodations in jail with the evident pleasure. "I see your fortunes haven't improved."

There was a lot of unresolved tension between them as the two men approached the bars from the opposite sides, their hate close to boiling over into fighting. "Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers," Jack snapped, looking the pirate straight in the eyes with the most daring challenge. He only managed to lean backwards slightly as the pirate grabbed his throat. In the pale moonlight his arm was skeletal.

"You know nothing of Hell," he growled.

"Let's go," said the other pirate impatiently. He wanted to find the armoury or at least to find a decent enough loot before the retreat was signalled. The other sneered and released Jack. He threw one last hate-filled look over his shoulder, meeting an identical expression.

When they were gone, Jack glared at the wall that surely would have collapsed could looks do the prisoners' job at breaking out. He kicked his hat aside, scooped up his mixture and began to pack the crack with it.

James anxiously observed his ministrations at a safe distance. "Perhaps, I should finish what I've started," he suggested.

"No."

"Have you done this before?"

"No," said Jack, making a cord out of straws.

"Did you think this through?"

"No."

"I'll take my chances with the gallows," said James, following his brother to the furthest corner of the cell.

Jack struck two pebbles together. The pair dropped on the ground and covered their heads as the sparks hit the cord. The cord ignited at once, and the flame snaked towards the mixture. Loud hissing filled the cell, followed by a cloud of stench. Nothing else happened. Jack lifted himself up on one elbow and threw a pebble at the wall. Still nothing. The smoke was slowly getting sucked outside. With a frustrated yell Jack charged the bars and slammed his entire weight against them.

He was unprepared for the bars to give way. The breaking points yielded in a cloud of pebbles and dust. The entire structure collapsed, with Jack falling as well, mostly on top of it.

The crash, however, seemed to have put him in better spirits. "Told ya, I could get us out of here," he informed James as he dug up his hat and placed it on his head.

James rolled his eyes and held his tongue with a patience that would have done a saint proud. "The worst of the fighting is down at the harbour, we should wait for it to die down before trying to leave the port."

"Now, you're not making any sense," said Jack, making a beeline around the jail contrary to reason which suggested getting away from the place of the imprisonment as soon as possible post the escape. They've ran around the building towards the front entrance, stepping over a body on top of the stairs.

"My effects," said Jack fondly, reclaiming his possessions with the aura of a groom reunited with his stolen bride.

James was glad that the pirates have overlooked the items, otherwise Jack would have insisted on following them.

Once outside, he decided to head away from the center of the town where he heard gunshots, but Jack once again went in the direction James wanted to avoid.

"Enlighten me, why are we going that way?" James prompted. He was unarmed, and had not the slightest inclination to get shot at again, having exceeded his quota at least for a month.

"My Pearl is here. I cannot miss the opportunity to join her, with the help of the proper disguise of course. I don't think we'll have trouble blending in with a group of pirates."

"Especially if they shoot us and let our bodies rot down to the bones. Then we'll look exactly like them," James supplied, injecting enough sarcasm into his voice to poison an entire population of rats on the planet.

"You worry too much," Jack shrugged his concern off easily. "Better start planning what we are going to do once we're aboard my Pearl."

"Say our prayers," James suggested, but he didn't abandon his brother.

The screams and gunshots were glowing louder, eventually surrounding them. The raiding party burned and looted whereever they went, as the _Black Pearl's _cannon fire was redirected to destroy the shore line battlements. The buildings blazed in the night, illumining people who fled, fought and died in their flickering light and shadows. A screaming woman ran past James pursued by a rapist. James pulled an axe from a nearby body and hurled it at his back. He pirate fell on his knees with a strangled choke, but then pulled the axe out and balefully turned to seek out the offender. It was very clear to James that he has just made an enemy without a weapon in sight. He kicked a barrow on the path of the charging pirate and ducked behind some boxes, and tried to open the lids, to see if he could use anything in them against the axe. He was forced to abandon cover as another pirate ran past, throwing bombs into the windows. The glass exploded around him. The attacker was on him at once, pressing the axe to his neck.

"Say bye-bye," the pirate leered, but before he could strike a shop sign fell with a resounding crash on top of him.

"Bye," said James, reclaiming the axe. He cast a quick look around, wondering where Jack has gone off to, but all he could see were dim shadows.

James ran back to the spot where he had last seen his brother before he had gotten entangled in a fight with the pirate, refusing to give up and reacting to the slightest movement crossing his path. He tripped over a body gracelessly and nearly fell. It was Jack. He lay motionless on the ground. James grabbed him and dragged him aside, away from the center of the street where they would get trampled. "Jack!" he called, examining the unconscious man for injuries. "Jack!" He encountered something warm and sticky as he touched the back of Jack's head. James brought his hand to the light. His fingers were coated in blood.


	17. Chapter 17

A shimmering pack of tropical fish that had the misfortune to swim by the docs of Port Royal on otherwise sunny and troublesome day received a terrible fright at the sight of a big sea monster with four legs and an upper shell that resembled a crab that clumsily crawled along the bottom. Unsure of the creature's intentions or where its mouth was located, the fish dispersed in a flurry of silvery glitter.

"I'm more inclined to think that this is madness than genius."

The statement fell unanswered into the narrow breathing space between the water and the inner side of the boat that was supported by two men. "I cannot blame it entirely on your sour head," added James, fully implying that state of madness was not uncommon for his partner in crime. The pistol hidden under his hat to keep it dry got tangled in his hair and pulled a few strands out while he could do nothing to adjust it. His hands were occupied by the boat that they had to carry all the way along the dock towards the peacefully anchored _Dauntless_.

Jack only lifted his chin higher to keep the water from getting into his mouth. His head was hurting more than he was willing to admit, and to make it worse, he didn't think those prudish Navy types would have any rum aboard the ship he was about to take over. How was a man to recover without rum from an injury like that? He couldn't remember the last night, except that his beloved _Black Pearl _was there. He was angry that James hadn't tried to get them aboard. Perhaps, he should have kept that complaint to himself though. He knew by experience that whenever his brother yelled and cursed, it was ok to negotiate with him, but when he was truly angry James would fume in silence and seek a place to be alone, which he did. James had refused to taunt him about the incident. It meant that it really had been one shitty night, and Jack wondered what James had to go through to keep them both alive. The bandages wrapped in a thick layer around his head were sweaty and itchy. James must have done the job of wrapping those on his own. In all that chaos it was unlikely to find a doctor to threaten him into fixing the pirate's injuries. At least James was back to accusing him of madness, which was all good by Jack's account. They were on the speaking terms again, although not entirely ready to forgive each other.

Their journey along the bottom of the sea went slowly, thus giving them both a chance to brood. The boat was not too heavy, but very clumsy to steer. They've abandoned it with pleasure as soon as the _Dauntless_ was close enough. The nearest buttress to grab was set too high. Jack nearly sunk again while trying to secure a hold, when James grabbed his hand and pulled him up.

They had the longest climb up to the sterncastle, but once there it allowed them a full view of the entire ship. From their position they've scouted the deck.

Excellent, there was no competition for Jack Sparrow. Just a few sailors were carrying the boxes supervised by a lieutenant too young for his uniform. They were too busy to notice as Jack without hiding approached them unsteadily, waving his pistol in the air mostly for balance.

"Don't anybody panic, nor be inclined to be doing anything stupid like pulling out your weapons, that is providing you've got any," he announced loudly. "We're taking over the ship."

The crew stopped their work and looked around for an army that was taking over the ship and then burst into laughter. "The _Dauntless_ cannot be crewed by two men," the lieutenant informed him, fighting to get the words out over his merriment.

Jack introduced the tip of his freckled nose to the barrel of his pistol. "Son, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?" After that, liberating his ship of any unwanted Navy types was easy. They've packed themselves efficiently into a boat, and Jack pushed them away with his foot.

James weighted anchor. The ship stood still for a moment like a freed animal that hadn't realised her liberation, and then with a soft jolt went forward, swayed by the current and slowly increasing her speed. Jack checked the wind. It was away from the shore. He left James to lowering the aft sail for a more convincing show while he went to make the necessary adjustments to the rudder chain.

When he came back, the _Interceptor_ was already hot in pursuit. The pirates adjourned to the quarter deck where they hid from view.

"The good Admiral looks like he has swallowed a sea urchin, though I am reluctant to say which one of them is a pricklier type," Jack commented, observing the approaching ship through his miniature telescope.

"Too bad I've missed the expression on your face when the _Black Pearl_ was taken from you," James ground out with annoyance. He pushed Jack's head down as the _Interceptor_ pulled up beside them. The crowd of marines poured aboard, following the orders to search every possible and impossible hiding place. The pair hurried to free themselves from the company and swung roguishly to the _Interceptor_. Almost everyone had followed the Admiral to search for the escaped prisoners with only the helmsman and another sailor remaining.

"Sailors, when I say everyone to the _Interceptor_, I mean everyone," James commanded, sneaking up behind them. His imitation of the Admiral was perfect. The crewmen jumped, entirely startled by the order. "Now!" he added as the helmsman tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. The sailors followed the strict command and ran across the plank to the _Dauntless_.

Jack kicked down the plank and went along the bow, cutting down all ties to the other ship. Free from the slower companion, the _Interceptor_ sprung forward with her sails set perfectly to get underway. There were shouts as the other party realised what the pirates have planned. Some of them attempted to swing back to the escaping ship, but they were too late. In mayhem, James threw one last look back, instantly finding his father. Their eyes met just for one moment across the water before James was forced to duck as the marines opened fire. With his heart ill at ease, James spun the helm, trying to get out of the cannon range of the _Dauntless_.

Jack, in contrast, was elated. He was giving his shiniest smile to the slowly shrinking ship and waving his hat. He then went along the deck, curiously poking all the polished parts and running his hand along the rigging until he disappeared in the cargo hold.

When Port Royal disappeared from sight, Jack came back disappointed and replaced James at the helm. Judging by his face his quest to search for the alcohol had not been a success.

To cheer up, Jack playfully turned the helm. He tested how well the ship could manoeuvre. The result was meeting all expectations, causing Jack to smile again. James casually leaned on the railing beside him. Both seamen, they appreciated how swiftly the _Interceptor_ slashed through the waves, flying like a bird of prey through the clouds. She was a magnificent ship.

"Perhaps we should check your head wound," James suggested mildly. "Those bandages look like they need to be changed, and we won't have the time once we get to Tortuga."

Jack knew a peace offering when he heard one. He opened his mouth to concede when another voice thundered behind them.

"Avast, you pirates! I'm taking back the control of His Majesty's ship!"

The pair looked at each other, very perplexed, and then slowly turned around to see who was threatening them. James groaned and let his head drop, issuing one abrupt word, "Bugger."

"I take it you know who this is?" Jack inquired politely, one hand elegantly holding the helm. "Would you care to introduce us?"

"His name is trouble persistent. We should throw him overboard. He can swim back to Port Royal."

Jack arched an eyebrow. It was rather uncharacteristic of James to forego any negotiations and proceed to the killing at once. "Now why would we do that?" he inquired, more concerned by the motivations than by the morality of throwing someone overboard.

"Never trust anyone who wears a wig," James responded. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his step-brother.

Jack shrugged like he didn't care. "Fair enough, but don't be so crude in your methods. We should make him walk the plank. Don't neglect our traditions."

The Captain watched them in confusion, having expected his entrance to startle the pirates into a blind panic. Instead, their reaction to him was rather phlegmatic. "If I were you I would be discussing how I would beg for mercy instead, you scum. I'm pointing a weapon at you!" he interjected.

"I see two of us and one of you," James said smoothly. "Not that I need any help in defeating you all by myself."

"You've cheated!" the Captain insisted. "Otherwise, I would have killed you."

"That's not much of an incentive to play fair, is it," said Jack. "There is only one rule in life that counts, what a man can and what a man can't do."

He spun the helm abruptly, changing the direction of the ship. A beam swung across the deck and hit the Captain square in the chest, making him drop his weapons. The man hung overboard, barely holding onto the beam. James eagerly climbed on top of the beam and went along it to help him, help him into the water that is by stepping on his fingers. He was going to lower one of the boats too afterwards, but he wanted the man make a good splash in the water which perhaps would cool his zeal to chase pirates.

"What is your name lad?" Jack inquired idly.

"That's Captain William Turner-Norrington, not a lad," the man responded haughtily like he wasn't holding on for his life.

"William?" Jack repeated. Had James been paying attention, he would have noticed a subtle change in the way Jack regarded the Captain. "I take it you've been named after your father?"

"If I have?" the man challenged.

"Never refuse a good acquaintance. You never know when it might save your life."

"Or get me into a big trouble," said Will crossly. He was tired of getting lectured by a pirate who seemed to think that he knew better how to live his life properly.

"You already have gotten yourself into trouble by threatening us unwisely."

"I am the Captain of the _Interceptor_. Naturally, I want the control of my ship back. I've stayed aboard when everyone went to the _Dauntless_ to look for you. You haven't noticed my presence, which suited me just fine."

Jack spun the helm again, and the beam came sailing across the deck, shaking off James and Will in the process.

"Hey watch it!" James yelled. "If someone really does fall into the water, we don't have enough men to bring her about to fish them out."

Jack ignored his complaint. He was scrutinising the Captain like he was the only creature in existence that mattered. He was holding onto the helm with one hand. In another he held his cutlass, pointing it at the sprawled out at his feet Captain. "What I would like to know is why you haven't attempted a valiant ship re-capture while we were still near Port Royal, and waited for us to leave it far behind."

"The pirates who have attacked Port Royal have taken Miss Swann," the Captain confessed reluctantly. "Your companion mentioned the _Black Pearl_, so I've intended to strike a bargain with you. I must know her whereabouts."

"So, it's about a girl!" Jack exclaimed like he has received the news of a birthday. James could see how he intended to exploit that revelation, romantic feelings were easy to exploit, but he couldn't figure out why Jack would want to deal with the man who by all measures should have been overboard already.

"You're not thinking of keeping him are you?" James asked cautiously. To his greatest irritation Jack ignored him again.

"Do tell what you were intending to offer in exchange for that information?" Jack inquired.

William looked at him sheepishly. "I was sort of intending to trade your lives in exchange for that information, once I've defeated you."

James bent over in laughter. "Such heroic imagination he has," he choked out.

"I need a drink," said Jack. "Tell you what, you tell me where I can find drink on this ship, and we will work out later what you'll owe us for that information."

"Absolutely not!" James protested. He wanted absolutely no foot, arm, leg or even a memory of a foolish young man who was heading directly towards dying with all this idealism, faster than a ship on a runner towards the rocks. Even if they went after the Pearl with Jack, they would be better off without any other companions. He had better things to do than keeping the boy alive.

"I know which box contains the best brandy," Will offered.

"Excellent," Jack smiled widely. He made a move to put his cutlass away, and then reconsidered and poked his would be recruit again. "One more thing, if we are aboard a ship or any floating vessel that needs commanding, regardless of the rank you hold, I am the Captain and you must swear to follow my command."

"I promise," the Captain informed him about as seriously as he had been when he had sworn his life to the Navy.

Jack sheathed his cutlass. They shook hands, sealing their agreement.

"Care to join us for a drink, James?" Jack offered cheerfully like he hadn't been ignoring him throughout the entire conversation.

"No," James responded darkly. "Your choice of crew is regrettable."

"Your choice of loot is regrettable."

"What does loot have anything to do with it?"

Jack realised that holding onto the helm and drinking was difficult to put together. "If you're not going to drink then take the helm, so I'll be free to explain it all nice and proper."

"Make your sash hold the helm. I'm going to inspect the ship for anything shiny," James snapped.

"Stay out of my cabin," said Will.

"That's not your cabin, that's the Captain's cabin, and you aren't no Captain," James parried. The cabin was the first place he intended to visit.

"So, what were you going to tell me about his poor choice of loot?" Will asked Jack, shooting James a vengeful look. Surely, it had to be something embarrassing.

"It was James' sixteenth birthday," said Jack, waving his hand at James to indicate who he was talking about, "when we've captured a Spanish galleon. What a fine lass she was filled to the brim with the gold, diamonds, all sorts of riches. Once she was secured, our Captain offered James the first pick of any treasure aboard in honour of his entry into adulthood. So, what did James pick?"

Will shrugged, completely out of imagination as to what it might have been.

"A crusty old man with nothing but bones to his name whom we were planning to toss overboard," Jack concluded.

"That man was a cartographer, and a university professor who spoke four languages," James interfered. "If it wasn't for him, I would still be as ignorant as a donkey and lost at sea because I'd be incapable of charting a course due to someone's lack of ability to teach me the subject properly."

"Hey, I can teach!" Jack protested as the helm escaped his attempt to tie it up and nearly smacked him in the face. "I taught you how to swear."

"No, I've picked it up from the company we've been keeping."

"At least my loot doesn't run away from me like that man did."

"He escaped two years later when he realised there was nothing else he could teach me. He became frightened that he might lose his life because he was no longer useful."

It was more like he allowed the man to escape, but James didn't want to mention that.

"How tragic!" Jack grinned, annoying James even further. "He escaped before handing out your graduation diploma."

"Point proven, 'regrettable' is a perfect description to fit his selection of loot," Will concluded.

Seeing that they were set against him, James turned on his heel abruptly and headed for the Captain's cabin, intending to destroy some valuable possession belonging to the former Captain. He didn't like William at all. The man already had taken his place by his father's side, and now Jack seemed to like him too.

Instead of looking for the keys, James lock picked his way inside. The cabin served as temporary quarters to the Admiral whenever he came aboard, although most of the possessions in it clearly belonged to William. It was small, like the rest of the ship. The inside was laconic with most of the space occupied by a large desk. A bed and a dresser completed the furnishings. The walls were bare, giving nothing extra a chance to fall in a storm.

The top drawers were occupied by William's possessions. Most of it was maps and some boring reports and shift schedules. James leafed through them indifferently without caring to preserve the order. There was one very badly drawn in ink picture that James guessed to be Elizabeth Swann, although the resemblance was only in knowledge that Captain fancied her enough to forego his reservations and make a deal with the pirates to save her. Gleefully, James pinned the drawing above William's bed with a knife.

The bottom drawer was the most interesting of all. Unlike the others it was locked. The possessions of it hardly differed from the Captain's, but they clearly belonged to a different man. The long signature, Norrington, on the pages was set in a perfectly straight line and unbroken on any letter like it was written with a sharpened ease, as sure as one sword stroke. There was a half-finished bottle of scotch. James sniffed the content delicately and then sipped it, pleased that he found the drink before Jack did. There was nothing else inside. James tapped his knuckles against the wood, thinking that there might be a second bottom.

There was. The drawer yielded its secret in a protesting screech, marring the intruder's fingers with a layer of dust. James found two miniatures wrapped in cloth at the very bottom. They were painted by the same artist, but not at the same time, dated four years apart. One depicted a woman with green eyes and another was a portrait of a child. When put alongside, the pair faced each other.

James didn't recognise himself or her. Most of the paintings of his mother have been removed from his home. He had never looked at himself from aside, nor would he remember a child no older than three. Yet, the Admiral had no closer family whose portraits he would keep. It had to be him and his mother. James regarded them with mixed feelings. He wondered why the Admiral had kept these paintings, and why he had forgotten them judging by the layer of dust.

James ran a thumb over the woman gently. Overall, she created a highly intelligent impression. Her brown hair was set in heavy, fashionable waves. She had a straight, narrow nose, highly arched eyebrows, but most intriguing was her smile. Perfectly polite, it held an undertone of mischief. The woman a bit daringly yet with a mixture of coyness and slightly downward cast eyes appeared to know exactly what her observer was thinking, every good and bad feeling, and seemed to be laughing at her revelation without judging.

James removed the painting from the frame, rewrapped it in the leather cloth, and hid it in his pocket before replacing everything back in the last drawer.

Suddenly tired from the chaotic night and then their take over of the _Interceptor_, he quickly locked the door, deciding that a nap was in order. With his boots on, he flopped onto the Captain's bed, stretching out on his back leisurely. When James closed his eyes, he saw his mother. She was smiling at him a very understanding smile that was filled with love. She knew that he was a pirate, but only laughed at the notion which made no difference in her feelings for her son.


	18. Chapter 18

Helloooouuu dear readers,

I wish you the most delightfully devilishly happy Halloween. I most certainly couldn't resist putting kids and ghosts into this chapter.

Note: NaNoWriMo is starting *gasp* tomorrow. I have no idea how it might influence my updates. It might make no difference at all or I might vanish into some creative writing hole. Be warned, just in case, and eat all your candy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

"Tortuga! What a glorious place!" Jack exclaimed, waving a cane in the air that he had extricated from a random stranger who had been shot. He resembled a man who wanted to sell paradise to the devil, gesticulating expressively and throwing his arms wide in the air as if to embrace the surrounding town that was quite frankly a crud hole. "This is the cradle of the pirating civilization!"

"You mean the rum cradle," James inserted. He nimbly dodged as someone poured slops out the window on top of their heads. William, who was not as experienced at navigating the streets of Tortuga, got his arm soaked and coloured in some greenish-brownish stuff.

"This is the place of dreams for every free man!" Jack continued his tirade unperturbed.

"Rum invoked hallucinations," James corrected.

"The place where no man regardless of his past and present is unwanted!"

"Due to rum, and if he has the money."

"I refuse to be daunted by your scepticism," Jack came down from his cloud to correct his brother who had been very sulky since their leave of Port Royal.

"I've refused to be in the company of this man, but he is still here," said James, glaring behind him.

"I heard that," said William.

"I told you to get rid of that navy uniform," James responded, completely unwilling to hide that he didn't want William around nor was ashamed to be caught at showing his displeasure. "It won't invoke any favours around here except getting shot at."

In confirmation to his words someone really did shoot at them. They ducked behind a well into which some tied up man was getting lowered like a bucket with his tongue sticking out.

"Relax mate, everyone here loves us!" Jack tried to pacify him. A blond woman marched towards them with the outmost determination, and he smiled at her brilliantly as she stopped in front of him with her hands on her hips. "Giselle!" he exclaimed like she had appeared to confirm his words.

The woman favoured him with a resounding slap. "I'm not sure I've deserved that!" Jack muttered. He noticed a red haired woman approaching them with the identical expression and winced, trying to hide his face with his hat. "Scarlet!" he acknowledged.

The woman ignored him. "James Sea!" she exclaimed.

Jack let out the breath he was holding, glad that this one didn't come for his soul. He grinned in anticipation to see James receive his welcome.

Scarlett lunged at James and pressed a passionate kiss on his lips.

Jack's face with an open jaw reflected utter disappointment.

James gave him a smug grin that eclipsed the sea. "I might have deserved that," he acknowledged.

Jack rubbed his cheek and regarded his compass that spun in maddening circles. There were too many temptations around for the compass ever to point at Gibbs. Besides, almost always the needle was pointing at the invisible and unreachable location of the _Black Pearl_.

"I think we need to separate to find Gibbs," he suggested, putting his arm around Will's shoulder to show that he was taking the man with him. He thought his brother needed to be alone to work through his negative feelings. Jack had to admit that he hadn't helped James to accept his choice to take William with them by siding with the whelp and patronising James throughout their voyage to Tortuga, not that James hadn't been a miserable companion. "If either of us finds him, let's meet at the tavern closest to the _Interceptor_. If not, we'll return to our ship after dark."

James regarded him moodily. He wondered if Jack wanted to get rid of him due to some secret that he didn't want to share, and that secret had something to do with Will. But, the pair really had gotten under his skin, and he wanted to be rid of their presence. Jack apparently needed Will, thus James supposed for a while he could trust the other not to get the man killed. "Fine," he conceded, parting with them rather gracelessly.

James wasn't interested in searching for Gibbs, confident that Jack will find his friend before he did. He went directly to the weapon shop to re-arm himself. He didn't like the weapons he found aboard the _Interceptor_. He wanted something that was specifically for him. James wondered if the shop could inspire him to find the weapons that could be used to harm or scare away the cursed crew. James wasn't afraid of ghosts. He had his first experience with one at the age of six that had left an imprint on him which in the later years of his life of following Jack had saved him numerously.

James was alone at Janet's home, trying his best to be good and vainly ignoring a honey pastry that lay temptingly on the plate. Prior to leaving with Jack to the shoemaker, Janet had left it there from breakfast with half a smile, saying that he shouldn't eat too many sweets. The way Janet had left it was very strange, she said not to touch the sweets, but her smile had been inviting. He thought she might have done so on purpose. Janet said not to take the pastries, but did that mean that he could have one? James wasn't sure. He tried to play for while, but he couldn't focus. His mind kept wondering back to the pastry. Finally, he snuck into the kitchen and climbed into the chair, reaching for the treat, only to be interrupted at the most incriminating moment as his fingers touched the sticky pastry. He nearly fell off the chair as a nasal voice interrupted him.

"Good afternoon."

James straightened himself as was proper and faced the intruder. The man had a black moustache. He was dressed in a sickly yellow vest, chequered breeches, and his cap sat crookedly on his right ear. He stood with arrogance of a man who knew he was unwelcome but nonetheless confident in his right to act like he owned the place.

"Good afternoon, Sir," James responded politely. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you knock to let you in."

"I haven't," the man shrugged. "I've taken the liberty to let myself in. I'm here to see Mr or Mrs Alvaro."

The man's words varied from the usual mannerly answer that James had been taught. "I'm sorry, they are not home," James responded, deciding to stick to the answers he had been taught. "Would you like to leave your message with me?" he offered.

The man with a practiced ease examined James head to toe, instantly taking notice of the silver pendant. He knew the value of many things, and this one was expensive. Greed instantly snaked its way past his ribs into his chest. The child was home all by himself. "I'm here to discuss a very serious matter," he said gravely. "I'm a tax collector. I'm afraid the owners of this shop are in very big trouble. They haven't paid taxes in a very long time, and I must inform them that they will be arrested."

"Do you mean you want to take them to jail, Sir?" James asked. He grew afraid. Only very bad people went to jail, but how could Janet be taken there when she was so very good. It had to be some kind of mistake. "I'm sure Janet will pay you. She is very, very good," he tried to convince the man. He found the man shake his head sadly like he greatly sympathised but could do nothing.

"I must insist of immediate payment, otherwise I will be in big trouble with the law. I suppose I could have another pay for her as an exception, for example that ornament around your neck can be a satisfactory payment."

James grabbed the pendant in dismay. Jack had just given it to him. It meant that they were brothers. But, he was so scared for Janet.

"You don't want Janet to go to jail for debts do you?" the man prompted.

Reluctantly, James removed the necklace and offered it to the man, his eyes filling with tears as he did.

"That's a good boy," the man told him. "I suppose I can let Janet go free this time." He petted James, and then grabbed the honey pastry off the plate. "Hmm, not bad," he noted as he chewed it with pleasure. He then hurried to excuse himself, unwilling to meet with the owners.

As the man left, James felt tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He never had anything in his life that was given to him personally by his family. Jack had given the pendant to him because he wanted to be his brother. James had given it away. Jack might not want to be his brother anymore. James rubbed his eyes, but tears didn't want to stay in and kept pouring over his cheeks. He curled up on the floor by the chair and cried miserably.

He didn't hear when Jack and Janet came back. Janet gasped and lifted the child from the floor and cuddled him to her chest. "What's wrong sweetheart?" she prompted. "Did you get lonely? Do you feel sick?" He touched his forehead afraid that fever was back after his recent illness. They were both dismayed by tears. It was uncharacteristic for James to cry. James couldn't confess to them, afraid what Jack would think. Eventually, Janet pried the story from him.

"That horrible man!" Janet exclaimed, boiling with indignation. "He is not a tax collector at all, although he is a vulture. The law on Aruba is frequently lax, so the local pirates who have a lot of influence use their authority to keep most of the pillaging and looting away from our district, but we must pay them for the protection. But, this man is a liar. My husband had been most punctual with our payments. He made that up to steal your pendant. May the ghost of the pale lady come to haunt him!"

"Who is a pale lady?" James asked.

"Don't fill his mind with superstitions," Jack said quickly. The tale, in truth, frightened him, although as a child he had never encountered that ghost. She never came to protect him when he was in trouble, for which he was grateful.

"It's a horrific tale," Janet responded at once with a relish of a woman who loved re-telling stories, the more frightening and scandalous the better. "Thirty years ago, a woman took ill on the ship. She was forced to stay for a night ashore on Aruba. She had seven children with her. At night, a violent fight broke out. The woman and all her children have been murdered. She haunts the island ever since. But, you need not be afraid of her, sweetheart. She likes children. She only haunts those who are bad to children."

Jack's teeth were starting to chatter. He hated that story very much. "Janet, do you mind if I take James outside to play with him a little? We're kept him inside too long," he asked before Janet got to tell other morbid details such as describing how each child had died.

"You're not mad at me?" James asked miserably, looking at him from the safety of Janet's arms.

"Why'd I be mad at you?" Jack grinned. He opened his arms and stepped to James. "Come here."

James threw his arms around his neck. Jack petted his back.

"I suppose he is healthy enough," Janet said after looking them over critically. "But don't tire him out needlessly."

"On my word," Jack grinned, taking exception to the word needlessly.

He took James outside, bouncing him and hopping around to make him smile. "We're going to play catch!" he informed James.

They've stopped by their home where Jack picked up a spare sack, and then circled the town, looking for someone specific. That someone turned out to be a stray feline as black as coal with amber eyes. She lay on the grass with the tip of her tail lazily tapping the ground and her ears flickering to catch every sound. James had seen her around and was a little bit intimidated by the beast that was afraid of no other animal and even chased dogs occasionally. He wondered why Jack wanted to catch this predator.

Jack took off his hat and bowed to the cat. He began to edge towards her with no less agility than the feral empress of the trees, attics and fences. Jack pounced. The cat arched her back with a hiss and darted away.

"After her!" Jack commanded, sprinting after the cat. James followed his brother right on his heels. "Remember," Jack lectured, "the cats are fast, but they get tired quickly. You will catch them if you keep up the pursuit."

It happened as he predicted. The cat in the last attempt to save herself climbed a tree, breathing shallowly. Jack stole a blanket from the nearby rope and gave it to James with the instruction to cover the cat with it. He climbed the tree after the cat. The cat eluded him and jumped off the branch onto the ground. James pounced on her with the blanket. The cat twisted violently, sputtering and hissing. Jack joined the fray. With a combined effort they've forced the cat into the sack. The cat was meowing in indignation like a dethroned deity with her claws sinking through the sack, but she couldn't get free.

With their catch in tow, Jack directed his steps back to the market street. He was confident that the tax collector would follow a straight line route until he collected every bit of revenue. Very soon his theory proved correct, and James recognised the man. The tax collector was leaving yet another shop.

Jack grinned and dragged James behind a cart, tracking down his victim. He petted the sack on his hip which instantly responded with an angry hiss. As the man came closer, Jack untied the sack. The cat shot out of it like a devil, spinning and hissing right underneath the man's feet. She took a swipe with her paw at the man's leg and crossed right in from of him. The collector cursed and spat over his shoulder trice, making some gestures to ward off the bad luck and knocking his knuckles against the wood before resuming his course.

"Now, we catch that cat again," Jack grinned happily.

James, scratched and dirtied, responded with the greatest enthusiasm. They've had a very fun day. James couldn't remember anything more fun. They've chased all sorts of animals around. They've trapped various birds in a box. They've caught a dog and painted him with a glowing paint and put some chains on him. Then, Jack had taken James to Janet for dinner and made James take a nap. James didn't want to because Jack was doing something fun too while he slept, but his eyes slid closed when Janet put him on her lap and rocked him after dinner.

Jack came back in the evening and took him outside again. He gave James a harmonica made of palm leaves and bamboo. The harmonica howled mournfully when James blew into it, much to his delight.

They've stayed out very late until the night filled the town. Jack led James through the streets to the tax collector's house, bringing all their animals with them. They hid underneath the bedroom window, waiting for the man to fall asleep. Jack had been worried that James might want to fall asleep too, but James had his eyes wide open. He was too excited to be sleepy. He watched in fascination as Jack climbed through the window and tiptoed in. Jack was an absolute master. He stole the keys without making a single sound and locked the door, and then silently adjusted something in the lamp that stood by the bedside. He leaned over the sleeping man and made a face at him. The man's breathing changed and he mumbled something with a frown as Jack held out the sack with the cat above him like a sword of justice ready to strike down the enemy. The cat through the day gave up the lost battle temporarily and fell asleep. Jack jolted her awake with a slap. He dumped the content of the sack right on top of the man, and bolted to the window.

The cat emerged like a volcanic eruption. She had never been so rudely imprisoned in her entire life. Bewildered by humiliation and desire for revenge she sunk her claws savagely into the first victim she encountered, primarily the man's face.

The collector screamed and fell out of the bed in a tangle of pillows and blankets, kicking and swinging his fists madly in the uneven battle of forces. The cat with the savage meows ripped to shreds anything nearby in a tornado of teeth and claws. Finally, the man gathered the blankets into a ball and tossed it away from himself into the corner. Calling out to his saints to save him, the man tried to light a lamp in fright. The lamp was not working. The shuffling pile in the corner unwrapped itself, and two amber lights fixed on him with a threatening hiss.

James put a hand over his mouth to suppress his giggles.

Seeing the pause in the storm, Jack opened the box with the birds with a short whistle. The flock of parrots and tropical birds flew into the room screeching, chirping and some parrots swearing colourfully. In fright the flock emptied their stomachs, showering the room with poop. They fluttered around madly, seeking escape with loud screeches. The man ran for the door and crashed into it. He desperately pulled and twisted the handle. Jack quickly pushed the dog through the window. The dog's chains rattled and the paint glowed in the dark. The dog sensed his worst enemy near, the cat. He growled and attacked. The cat, feeling no less combat ready yielded to no one. They've tangled in a destructive ball that made horrible sounds. The man was banging his fists and feet against the door, begging someone to let him out.

Jack hung a white sheet, coloured with the same paint as the dog outside the window. At his signal, James began to play the harmonica that contributed to the devilish concert. If any neighbours woke up to hear the music, they shuddered and hurried to close their windows tighter, muttering prayers. "Uuuuuuuu," Jack howled, "wuuuuuuuu! Thief, you're a thief! You've stolen the pendant from that child!"

The man realised that he won't be able to break the door down, and his only exit was covered by an apparition. "Damn you!" he yelled, sudden fury giving him courage. "Don't tell me how to live, you dead thing!" He grabbed the chair and jumping over the fighting animals charged the blanket. He swung right through it, lost his balance and fell right on top of James and Jack. He grabbed Jack's neck, strangling him. James pounced on the man, trying to free his brother. The man realised that it was a solid entity he was fighting, and that this entity was a couple of kids.

"You brats!" he cursed furiously. "How dare you play games with me! I'll whip you half to death!"

He froze suddenly with his mouth half open and his eyes bulging out of their sockets. The air around them cooled. Jack pushed the man off. His face turned white with fear, and he pressed his back against the wall. James looked behind them. A ghostly figure floated several steps away. She was dressed in a long, ragged dress. Her hair fell past her waist in tangled strands that floated in the air around her. As she advanced, the air got colder. The tax collector hiccupped and tried awkwardly crawling away, but his limbs were barely moving. The woman followed him.

The only one not frightened was James. He intuitively sensed that the woman meant no harm to him. She came to punish the man. She wasn't young, but not as old as Janet. There was an aura of discontent about her. She was accusing the world of harming her so much as to murder her children in front of her. She stretched her arms out accusingly, reaching for the man.

"Leave me alone!" he screamed, coming out of his shock. He jumped back into the window and crashed through his room, ignoring all animals in it. He slipped on some poop and fell, and crawled on his knees to his dresser. He pulled out the pendant and threw it out the window. "Take it!" he yelled. "Take it back and leave me alone!"

James collected the pendant from the grass. Next, he was grabbed across the waist and lifted off the ground to be carried like a sausage. Jack, absolutely spooked, ran faster than James could ever remember. The woman turned around, watching the children escape, and then she melted into the air.

After that, James had never feared any of the supernatural creatures. He viewed them as more dangerous opponents than the ones made of flesh and blood but not indestructible. He never had a paralyzing fear of them that so many mortal men were afflicted by.

Now, Jack wanted to fight those creatures. James believed he could handle Captain Barbossa's crew as long as he knew what he was fighting for. He might have been mad at Jack, but his brother had never abandoned him, nor was James going to abandon him either. He was going to help Jack return his beloved ship.

James returned to the _Interceptor_ late at night with new weapons and feeling better.

A pistol clutch clicked nearby in the darkness and a familiar voice called out. "Halt! Who goes there?"

"Did you find Gibbs?" James asked, not caring to clarify who he was.

"I sure did. He is with Will at the nearest tavern, recruiting me crew," Jack explained, for once without the mysteries. He judged by the sarcasm free reply that he was back in safe water where James' mood was concerned.

"Are you sure it was safe to leave the two of them to it?"

"They'll be fine."

James shrugged, unwilling to get into another argument with Jack. He was tired of caring about William, who judging by his tenacious streak, would refuse to die until he had completed his mission to save his beloved.

Down in the tavern, Will and Gibbs sat behind a table, interviewing their recruits or rather accepting anyone who was willing to sign up to be passed for the Captain's inspection tomorrow in the morning.

A brightly coloured woman approached them. "I hear you're recruiting a crew for the Captain Jack Sparrow?" she inquired.

"We are, Miss," Will assured her, while Gibbs looked at her with a lack of interest or rather with a lack of interest in terms of her sailing abilities, although her breasts were very interesting to look at.

"Could you pass a message to him from me?" the woman asked.

"I will be delighted to," William assured her, trying to be the gentleman and assist the lady.

The woman without further encouragement slapped him across the face so hard that his hat fell off.

"I always tell them to pass these messages through James," Gibbs told him.

This elicited interest from the woman. "Do you know James Sea?" she asked.

"Yes," William acknowledged, and hurried to point at Gibbs, "but he is the one who takes messages for him."

The woman kissed Gibbs on the lips. William had never witnessed such a long smooch. She finally let them be, adjusting her dress as she went.

"Aye," said Gibbs, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I love recruiting. Jack's going to have a mighty fine crew, if a bit on the barmy side."


	19. Chapter 19

A slight breeze ruffled the ends of the black flag that Jack with great fanfares had commanded his first mate to hoist on top of the main mast as a testament to his greatness and subjugation of the Navy ship into the ranks of the pirates. But, regardless of the change in decorum the _Interceptor_ swayed by the busy dock with a noble grace of a countess, although she was crowded by pirates who bustled about her deck in the dirty boots bringing aboard the supplies.

"Hold the rum!" a blue and yellow parrot screeched in a perfect imitation of the Captain who with the busiest yet most satisfied expression was commanding the loading process. "Don't lose the rum!"

Jack was content. He had a crew under his command once again. Even if this was not his beloved Pearl, the thrill of commanding a vessel that allowed him the escape and abandon only the sea could offer made every bit on his soul pulse with life. If only there were no killjoys around to nag him endlessly, he thought as James approached him with disapproval clearly edged at the corners of his mouth.

"You have an amazing talent. You've managed to give the same gift to two people at once," James told him as the crew went past them. Gibbs noticed their whispering and leaned onto the nearest crate to take a swing out of his flask, and eavesdropping. "I thought you've intended to give the _Interceptor_ to Teague, but now that you've given it away to Anamaria I would like to know what will happen if we run into your father."

"Correction, the act of giving away requires a voluntary action on behalf of both parties, the giver and the receiver, without the external influence of a third party that has been represented by the whelp who has given away our ship to Anamaria," Jack responded flippantly like he did when he had no answers and intended to deal with the problem when and not if it arose.

"And there I was under a wrong impression that the giving party has done the act of giving because the receiving party was intending to flail him alive," James drawled out. He was suspecting that there was more to Anamaria's wrath than the dinghy involved, which admittedly he had taken part in stealing in order to get to Port Royal. "I've expected you to come up with a better answer than blaming it all on the whelp whom I've told you to leave overboard."

The above mentioned whelp, tired of being addressed as such, overheard the last phrase and folded his arms across his chest, intending to put an end to his treatment as a juvenile. He was a Captain of the Royal Navy, although that bit didn't seem to leave even the slightest respectful impression on the pirates. But, it was difficult to insert a word as the pair continued to argue.

"And I told you to…" Jack looked around for something to annoy James with. There was a piglet nearby that was nervously fidgeting and trying to escape his rope. Jack grabbed it and dumped the squirming mass into James' arms, "to carry this wiggling, wobbling, jelly-like creature aboard," he finished. The animal instantly attempted to escape, which was enough to occupy James as he struggled to keep it in his grasp.

With the matter settled, Jack noticed the slacking in duties as soon as he had been distracted and hurried to remedy the situation.

"Hurry up now," he ordered, clapping his hands together and making shooing motions. "I want to be out of here by late afternoon."

"Before another woman appears to settle a debt with you," James contributed. "If one more comes, you'll be left without your pants too, not just without the ship."

"That reminds me," said William, finding the opening to enter the conversation. "I've met a woman who wanted to pass message to you, Jack."

"Aye?" Jack inquired. "What was it about?"

Will slapped him so hard that the piglet quit his struggling and pressed his ears to his head while covering in James' arms.

Gibbs coughed into his fist. He straightened his coat and the necktie. "I don't suppose I can postpone giving my message either," he said, advancing on James. He grabbed James across the waist and spun him around, aiming to kiss him.

James quickly put the piglet between himself and Gibbs, letting the pirate smooch the animal soundly. "Get the hell away from me!" James yelled struggling to get free with as much passion as the piglet in his grasp had been. "I accept no messages. If someone wants to talk to me, they have to do so directly!" James finally squirmed out of the grasp and made an impossibly long jump backwards nearly toppling over a crate of rum, which has produced a horrified gesture from the Captain. James dropped the piglet, and pointed his pistol at Gibbs. The piglet with an indignant oink fled in a drum-roll of hooves.

"You've let our dinner get away!" Jack accused.

"Don't worry, if we run out of food you can eat your hat, unless you can multiply pigs the way you can multiply ships," James assured him.

"We're in trouble," said William.

"You doubt my ability to multiply pigs?" Jack inquired. "There is no need to grow so pale over it."

"No! Bigger trouble!" William pointed behind them at a ship that was coming around the headland under the British flag. Her every tightly drawn line spoke of the unyielding discipline and power. With undeterred determination, she headed directly for the _Interceptor_ that was covering in the bay.

"I guess they've fixed the rudder chain," James said, recognising His Majesties' finest.

"All hands on deck!" Jack shouted. "Everyone, drop whatever you're doing and get aboard!"

"What about the rum?" Gibbs inquired, quickly hiding his flask in his shirt for the safe keeping.

"Leave the rum!"

The pirates paused, horrified that they had to leave the rum behind, but as James ran across the plank aboard with William on his heels they figured that saving their skin was just a little bit more important and followed him.

"Nobody panic!" yelled Jack as he chaotically ran around the deck, panicking.

"Captain, orders?" Gibbs asked as Jack went past him.

"Run! Just run!"

James grabbed Gibbs by the collar who was about to join Jack in running around pointlessly. "Weigh anchor! Release the mooring-lines! Raise the powered jib! Prepare to cast off!" With the other hand he grabbed Jack and dragged him to the helm. "The Captain will take the helm."

"Aye!" Jack agreed. "The Captain will. Wait, I'm the Captain! If they catch us, James, you're the Captain."

The orders were carried out with an incredible speed and precision. The _Interceptor_ began her manoeuvres, trying to get out of the bay. But, it was all in vain. The _Dauntless_ most steadily, without the slightest hint of the agitation, completed her move to cut them off.

With the safe fairway blocked by the _Dauntless_, the only available passage out of the bay was through the shallows. Jack spun the helm and guided the _Interceptor_ along the shore into the unsafe waters, relying on the lookout to give him enough time to avoid any serious collisions. It seemed though that he wasn't the only one who could take risks because the _Dauntless_ tacked and ran parallel to them where the water was deeper, turning to them her most heavily armed side. Her ports opened and the cannons appeared. James spotted at least forty guns.

"Captain, should we ready our guns?" Gibbs asked.

"No!" William yelled, and for once James agreed with him.

Jack gripped the helm tighter, although he looked like he wanted to tap his chin as he was eyeing the waters ahead shrewdly like he expected the sea to open up like a magic box and make the _Interceptor_ disappear, saving them from their enemies. "No good. Just run!" Jack ordered.

The distance between the ships was decreasing with the _Dauntless_ seeking out a better position relative to the shoals where she could fire. Heavy and large she was at a far greater risk than the brig she was pursuing. James had no time to look at her deck as he secured the sails, but he felt her heavy presence like all those guns were aimed specifically at him.

"Abandon ship," the parrot screeched and took off in a flutter of feathers when the _Dauntless_ made her move.

"Parrot! I mean, duck!" Jack commanded, but the blast didn't come at once.

When the _Dauntless _came into a firing range, she hit the shoal, sending everyone on her deck rolling. She craned dangerously. Carried forth by her mass, she travelled further, scraping her hull along the bottom and raising sand to the surface before coming to a painful halt and losing track of the enemy ship.

The crew of the _Interceptor_ shouted in joy. Their yell was answered with a blast of cannons. Due to the imperfect firing position, most of the cannon balls splashed several feet away from the _Interceptor's_ port. But, there were several that hit the mark. James bid farewell to the Captain's cabin that was smashed to bits, but otherwise the ship miraculously sustained no damage to the hull or sails that could have effected their speed, which the pirates have used to the full potential to make their escape.

Several hours later, when the fear of the pursuit had diminished, Jack ordered the crew to bring into the cargo hold carelessly scattered boxes that they haven't been able to secure properly due to their hurried departure. He searched the horizon not without a trace of worry, seeking confirmation to the early signs of a storm he had detected in the morning. His scrutiny of the elements was disrupted by James.

"I want a word with you in private," he requested.

The neutral remark, lacking even a trace of sarcasm that James had impressed on him frequently as of late, alarmed Jack. He passed the watch to Anamaria, and led James below the deck due to the quarterdeck and the Captain's cabin suffering a messy demise. "Does this spot satisfy your secrecy inspired expectations?" he inquired as he rose onto his tiptoes to be on a better eye level with James and swayed back and forth along with the rocking of the ship.

"I require an explanation why you are bringing Captain Turner with us," James cut to the point.

The trinkets in Jack's hair glittered in the dim light of the lanterns, and the world swayed back and forth along with the cots, a discarded apple on the floor and a dark blue coat hanging carelessly of the hook beside them. "Inquiry is a dangerous enterprise. Sometimes you may think that inquiry will lead you to an answer, but instead it will lead you to an inescapable end where you'll realise that you can do nothing to change the matter."

He knew that Jack was secretive for a reason. Yet, in spite of his endless experience when he forced the truth to the surface which he was better off not knowing, he stubbornly sought it out. "I will weasel the story out of Gibbs if you do not tell," James insisted. "And don't claim that he isn't better informed than I am. He is no fool, whereas going after the _Black Pearl_ is considered foolish, unless you have something to bargain with. Since Gibbs found the crew for us, I'm assuming he knows something, and that something has to do with Captain Turner."

Jack rose to his tiptoes once more, somehow resisting the sway of the ship to lean backwards and leaned closer to him instead. He never slumped whenever he spoke with someone one on one. "Let us not forget our friends, the un-dead crew in possession of mine positively enchanting ship," Jack revealed the truth in one breath. "Captain Turner is the man Captain Barbossa needs. In order to lift the curse, the unsavoury side effects of which you've had the pleasure to witness, a blood sacrifice is required, whereas the whelp is the only remaining, albeit very distant, relative of Cortez, which however diminishes not at all his usefulness to us."

Mocking as his speech might have been, his countenance reflected absolute graveness. Jack repeatedly claimed that moral was a tacky waste aboard the ship that had to be crumpled into a ball and discarded with all due haste, yet James had dealt with Teague and those in the old pirate's employ who truly had lost all sense of humanity. "You are willing to trade the man's life for a ship," James half asked, part of him hopeful that Jack had a clever plan to keep everyone alive.

Jack invaded his space, tapping his fingers against James' chest. His voice, full of promise, began to weave a seductive web around them. "Not just any ship - the _Black Pearl_. She is the legend, the undetectable phantom that strikes fear even into the bravest man. She is powerful and uncatchable, and enough for a man to sell his soul for. Remember when we were sailing with my father how we've dreamt about a ship of our own that could take us wherever we wanted without the fear of being caught, without the fear of being overpowered and trapped. The _Black Pearl _is that dream becoming reality. You cannot deny the desire to command her."

With effort, James shook off the illusion. This was always Jack's dream, but not his. Even if he didn't know what he wanted, James always sensed that his and his brother's paths were not the same one, even if so often they have travelled together. "You can go ahead and be lost in your dream," he forced the words out, "but I'm going to tell William about your plan." He took a step back, watching Jack for the slightest hint that he might try and do something foolish, but his brother made no move to stop him.

"Go ahead," Jack allowed. "Do you truly believe that he will jump off the ship, swim back to Port Royal, put his wig on and resume his Captain's duties like nothing had ever happened? You can tell him the truth. But, the truth of the matter is, he will still follow my plan because he is willing to sacrifice his life for the girl."

James realised bitterly that Jack was right. "I'm going with you," he decided, thinking that perhaps just like Jack had done in the past he might be inspired to salvage the life that meant something to his father. Sometimes James wondered if Lawrence had resented him because Catherine had died in child birth, thus his appearance into the world had cost the Admiral his wife. James felt some hidden guilt that prompted him to keep Turner alive to make up for another loss. "I want to be present when you negotiate with Barbossa."

Jack smiled at him a charming, filled with gold and treachery smile. It was unnerving to meet his unfathomable eyes, never knowing that Jack had never learned to fully understand his brother either, and that his green depths were more mysterious to him than the waves. James realised that any promise Jack would make to him right now wouldn't be true. The stairs behind them creaked mournfully as Gibbs came in, saving them from a further argument.

"Captain, there are clouds gathering. The wind is picking up. There's going to be a storm."


	20. Chapter 20

It was one ornery storm that had drained all strength from the _Interceptor's_ crew. They were up all night, clinging mostly onto the railing rather than steering the ship, too fatigued even to cross superstitiously whenever the particularly violent gusts of wind craned the ship's masts dangerously close to the maddened sea. Worn out by the uneven struggle, the _Interceptor_ was at the mercy of the raging elements like a box filled with toy figurines in the hands of a capricious child who rattled and tossed it in amusement, barely short of opening it up and shaking the content out. The wind howled in the rigging. The waves buried the ship over and over in their icy embrace, forcing the crew to work the pumps hours and hours to keep her from sinking, until the nature had satisfied her whimsical use of might.

When the worst of the storm blew over, James was replaced at the helm where he stood vigil all night, keeping the _Interceptor_ from keeling over. The downpour continued, but the wind subsided. He staggered to get below the deck where he leaned heavily against the creaking beam to work a bit of flexibility back into his stiff joints. He breathed onto his hands for warmth, and the frozen-white fingers prickled as the feeling returned to them. The crooked imprint of the helm was surely to become engrained permanently into his palms, which would help identify the culprit who had taken the ship, James thought not without amusement now that the worst was over. Immodest gulp of rum had been earned fairly, and he promptly located the bottle.

Soaked beyond redemption, his jacket and shirt were peeled off after he liberated his mother's painting from the folds, glad that he had taken precaution to wrap it safely to keep it dry even in the downpour. The draft chilled his wet skin. There was an abandoned naval jacket left on the hook that could no longer serve whichever lieutenant of the Navy had left it there. James threw it over his bare torso. Tight fit in the shoulders and the sleeves an inch too short were still a desirable option.

He grabbed a blanket and flopped into the nearest hammock, dead tired, sparing an unkind thought about his brother who had smartly given consecutive watches to James and Anamaria, no doubt to appear on deck after the rain would slacken. Bloody pirate! No doubt, in contrast, Admiral Norrington accepted the worst shift to oversee his ship in a difficult moment, and hopefully moved the _Dauntless_ off that shoal before the storm came. Jack, however, had one redeemable feature, he wasn't trying to imprison or hang him, unlike his father. But, James remembered a different day when Lawrence had shown more than dislike or indifference towards him.

He was three years old: small, abandoned and very lonely in a long, lavish hall where the adults moved like mannered dolls, carrying on many serious conversations in hushed undertones. He had been left in the care of his governess, but she was a dull company, prone to endlessly nagging him about proper manners and aiming to straighten his posture, not that he currently had even the benefit of her constant instructions because the young woman was incapable of hearing or seeing anyone else once Geoffrey, the valet, discretely weaved a beeline towards them. Whispering as not to draw attention and blushing, she retreated behind a curtain with the man, completely forgetting about her charge.

No one paid attention to a little child lost among adult's heavily embroidered skirts, shoes and stockings. Large mirrors, bottles of wine, jewellery: all sparkled with beautiful but unfriendly light, too bright and too intimidating. James missed Fin. His stuffed dolphin was a good company, but his father deemed it undignified for a child that old to carry a toy around, thus Fin had been confiscated. Deprived of his friend, James couldn't ask his opinion how to remedy his problem. He was very thirsty. He dared not disturb any of the adults in the room, nor was he allowed to search for his father who before the party impressed on him severely that his conversations are not to be interrupted.

There was a tray of glittering glasses perched high up on the table. James had to tilt his head to see the bottom of the tray. Up on his tiptoes, he couldn't quite reach it. James tugged at the table cloth to bring the prize within reach. The contraption crawled closer to the edge and wobbled precariously. Then, he was falling with the fabric still clutched in his hands, terrified by the loud shuttering of the glass around him and the bang of the silver tray against the marble floor.

Like a frightened bunny, he tried to crawl under the table out of sight, but the room kept spinning alarmingly. Something wet and hot trickled down his face. He was afraid that he caused trouble by disturbing all those adults. Everyone was now looking down at him, accusingly and unkindly. He just wanted to hide in his room with Fin in his embrace. Then, he was lifted high up. He yelped in fright and tried to wriggle out of the hold, certain that it only meant punishment.

"Shhhh, James. Don't struggle," he heard his father's voice, and realised that Lawrence came to pick up his stray offspring. Pressing the child to his chest and ignoring the bloody trail smudging his expensive attire, Lawrence called for the doctor. The world was a blur. James vaguely recalled that his father was running very fast, dignity forgotten.

The doctor he had been brought to was friendly. He said a few silly things to James, which he might have laughed at, had his head not been hurting so badly. He hardly needed distraction, however, because he kept looking back at his father to discern whether he was angry, meanwhile the doctor bandaged his head. James was too confused to cry, but a lump formed in his throat when Lawrence stepped away from the healing bed.

James thought that his father was returning to the party. He knew that his father had very important things to do - nonetheless, a much larger part of him didn't want to be alone so very much. However, Lawrence only left to get a chair, which he brought closer to the healing bed. He removed his blood stained jacket, and sat down stiffly, prepared to wait.

The doctor gave Lawrence an encouraging smile. "Your son will be all right," he assured. "I will visit tomorrow to change his bandages. Rest and your love is what he currently needs."

"Thank you."

His father's voice lacked the usual nerve and pitch; it was very much subdued, closer to a whisper.

"You can pick him up," the doctor allowed.

Lawrence lifted his son from the bed awkwardly and cradled him to his chest. James pressed his nose into his shirt, cuddling up into his father's solid form. "Mad at me?" he asked. He knew he shouldn't mumble and try to speak properly, but it seemed ok at the moment. His father didn't correct him and answered his question.

"No, I am not angry," said Lawrence. "However, you have given me a fright."

But, his father wasn't scared of anything. James was confused enough to abandon his comfortable position to look up at Lawrence. "Why?" he asked.

The innocent enough question dismayed Lawrence. "I was afraid for you because you were hurt. I want you to be well," he explained, but James kept looking at him quite puzzled, and he cursed his inability to voice his gentler feelings. "You are important to me," he tried.

It seemed to be enough. His son was able to read between the lines, just as his wife had been able to understand the feelings her severe husband couldn't afford to voice. "Love you too," James mumbled, once more snuggling into his father's safe hold. Tiny fingers gripped his shirt tight.

His father was big and comfortable, and James stretched out along his chest. A large, warm hand rubbed his back soothingly. Lawrence kept rocking him, gently and smoothly just like a ship in calm waters.

Through the curtain of sleep, James detected when the motion of the ship changed. It was no longer the rough stirring, but a much calmer, lengthily motion, present when the waves were wide but not tall. He cracked his eyes open into the comfortably dim light of the hold. His limbs were heavy as he sluggishly climbed out of the hammock. There were other crew members resting after their exhausting watch. James staggered past them up the stairs.

As he emerged on deck, he had to duck to avoid a flying bottle of rum, and received a face-full of parrot that was dodging the same projectile. Both flying objects were explained when he saw Jack with the most puzzled expression trying to re-attach a long hair strand with beads back onto his head, which apparently the parrot had bitten off, having shared the Captain's fascination with the minor, shimmering objects.

"We're back on course," Jack informed him.

James accepted the news morosely, aware that where they were heading was not going to get any friendlier. The inklings of a grey day and thin fog gave him an unpleasant shiver. His bare shoulders under the naval jacket made him feel exposed. They were moving towards something creepy that even a fool would be unnerved by.

"If nothing changes, we will reach Isla de Muerta in two days," said Jack.

His prediction came true.

Nothing changed two days later, not even James' post as he stood by the Captain's side at the helm. He, however, was soon chased away by Jack who needed the outmost concentration to guide the _Interceptor_ through the treacherous fairway. The ship graveyard was as eerie as ever. Each sunken ship was a deteriorating monument to the hundreds of souls who perished in the shark infested waters.

In the background, he heard Gibbs, droning on about another one of Jack's imaginary adventures. The man was probably responsible at least for the third of the incredible Jack Sparrow legends that circled the Caribbean. James approached, just as some other crew members did, but mostly curious about the exchange between William and Gibbs. The whelp was not a fool, even if he was willing to give the speaker the benefit of the doubt. He pointed out inconsistencies in the pirate's narrative by asking him to clarify some parts of the story. He, however, didn't get the satisfaction to catch Gibbs on a lie because the Captain ordered them to stow the sails.

The _Interceptor_ passed through the graveyard and shadowed the rocky shoreline in the fog. Undetected, they reached the bay where the _Black Pearl_ dropped anchor. The darkness encroached deeply and quietly. James attempted to spy through the telescope the port light of the other ship, meanwhile the _Interceptor_ was kept invisible, with only the moon dimly shining on her deck through the clouds. It was a perfect night for ghosts and the men cursed to walk the earth and haunt ships.

A hand, foreign and gripping, landed heavily on his shoulder. James nearly dropped the telescope into the water. "Damn you, Jack!" he hissed. "Save your sneaking games for the times when they're funny."

The lack of biting retort alarmed him. It was difficult to tell what Jack was thinking in broad daylight, more so as he stood in the grey fog, and his eyes were half hidden by his hat.

"Come with me," Jack summoned, turning and quickly heading along the deck and down the stairs to the brig, carefully avoiding many sharp objects and corners that appeared only when he was at the brink of running into them. Jack unlocked the cell and motioned James to step inside.

"What are you trying to tell me?" James puzzled, following the order.

"Look closer," Jack muttered, making a rapid gesture to go in deeper and look at the wall. James did.

He received his answer to the strange behaviour as the cell slammed shut. Jack swiftly turned the key and jumped out of his reach.

"What are you doing?" James asked incredulously.

"Sorry, mate, but I'll be going together with the good Captain Will to meet up with Barbossa. I can't have you along because that makes you one too many to watch not to do anything stupid."

"Jack!" the threat and promise of horrible retribution inserted into four letters was unmistakable, but it fell on deaf ears of a man who had been under the threat of ruin by a far more formidable enemies.

"You'll need this," said Jack. He tossed a full bottle of rum into James' cell. He was not smiling.

"Don't you dare!"

Jack did. James heard him pass instructions to Gibbs to keep the prisoner locked in even if he threatens to blow up the ship.

James could have kicked himself. He cursed the blue streak with enough passion and creativity to make Captain Blackbeard blush like a virgin. He had been imprisoned frequently in the brigs, but this was the first time he willingly, like a stupid goat, walked into one because he was asked to. Do not trust Jack Sparrow - that dirty, collude, conniving son of a cuttlefish. Who better than him should have remembered that one simple truth of life. Every time he got duped, marooned and otherwise betrayed, James gave himself that promise, but whenever Jack appeared with that conceited smile of his that carried the unmistakable undertones of mystery and adventurism, James unwillingly succumbed to its charm and once more followed his brother everywhere, letting him do whatever he would. He really was going to rip that bandana off Jack's big, presumptuous head and suffocate him with it, and stuff that soiled, moth-forsaken hat into his mouth for good measure. Providing, he could get out of the brig first. Whoever made the cell knew what they were doing because the complex double lock was resilient to the attempts to pick it.

After lengthily scowling, yelling, kicking and trying to otherwise force the cell open, James gave up. He sunk onto the floor with his back against the bars and gave the bottle of rum some consideration. It was huge, courtesy of Jack, who naively thought to escape retribution with the sheer size of it. That would never work as means of redemption, James decided firmly, but at present there was only one thing left to do. Get drunk.


	21. Chapter 21

James woke up from a cool, smooth thud against his forehead. Reaching out to slap away the offending object, he encountered an empty bottle that must have slipped out of his grasp and rolled around the cell after he had fallen asleep on the floor last night. He winced. Even the muted sounds, like the dull splashes of the waves against the hull and creaking of the wooden planks, intensified the throbbing in his temples. His head was humming. Damn it to Hell, it really was a large bottle, and it was empty. It's been a while since he had gotten queasy on a ship, which undeniably he was.

The _Interceptor _was out in the open sea. He could tell by the rocking. Anxiety, James sensed it in the air by the subtle changes in the running of the ship, even if he had no idea what was happening. Enough was enough; he wanted to rest on something more comfortable than the brig's floor with a sour mouth and an aching head like that.

He contemplated how to draw attention without making a sound as not to jeopardise his sensitivities further when the he heard young, athletic footfalls descending the stairs. "Turner," he identified first, and then forced his head to lift and regarded the man wearily, "fetch the keys, and let me out of here already. I have Jack Sparrow to kill."

Will flinched, shiftily taking great interest in the planks below his boots. "Someone might have beaten you to it." Guilt was edged into every gesture. "Last night we went to negotiate with Captain Barbossa. We have rescued Elizabeth, but Jack fell behind."

Fell behind? James suddenly felt as hollow as the bottle he was clutching. The cell swayed alarmingly. The notion was incomprehensible. How could the ever insightful Jack Sparrow who was aways the first to foresee and the first to run, fall behind? Surely, the pirate life was filled with peril, especially where his brother was concerned, but James was completely unprepared. It couldn't be true. Yet, William had no reason to lie.

The inner conflict, between the desire to never abandon comrades and having to compromise his principles to save the life of the woman he loved, was engraved in the newly formed, thin wrinkles on William's forehead. "You mean you've left him behind," James accused, getting up and grabing onto the bars so tight his fingers shook. Bile rose in his throat, and he spat it out, nearly getting Turner's shoes in the process. "And to think I was worried about you! You've sold him out instead. No heroes among the Navy Captains I suppose," he sneered.

"Pirates, not Navy Captains," the man corrected.

"Call yourself whatever you like, your conscience is the same, Captain or pirate. I doubt you've considered turning back to be sure that he truly is dead, unless you've seen him die."

"We do not have the time to squabble," Turner said firmly, although he carried the guilt of his decision. "The _Black Pearl_ needs no catching. She is after us. I want to know whether you intend to remain locked in this cell when Barbossa's crew attacks or will you help us fight them."

"Are you asking me whether I intend to extract revenge on a man who killed my brother?" James asked grimly. "Yes. I am."

"Fair enough."

When Turner unlocked the cell, James imposed an empty bottle onto him. Sparing a half-annoyed grin at the man's confusion, James strode past him up the stairs. Greedily, he breathed in the salty air that was so refreshing in its roughness, the wind and the sun leaving an all too familiar bitterness on his lips, and felt the nausea recede.

The deck of the _Interceptor_ was crowded. Some elbow work helped him get through to a good observational point. No telescope was needed to make out the _Black Pearl_, barely outside her fore cannon's reach, connected to the pursued ship by a thin line of objects thrown overboard to escape her.

This plan would never work. James put his foot on top of the cannon that was about to be chucked into the water. "We're going to need that," he told the man who was cutting it loose. In confirmation, two rows of oars appeared on each side of the _Black Pearl_, hastening her enough to catch up with the prey.

"I think we need a new plan," said Turner.

"Indeed. You get on it," James approved. "My plan is to secure a pair of ear muffs. Cannon fire does not mingle well with a hangover. They'll be onto us soon enough."

His assumption proved correct. What was a dull throbbing blew into a pounding headache as the ships came in close quarters among the clang of steel, fire and smoke. James concentrated on getting aboard the _Black Pearl_, searching for Barbossa. Perhaps, cursed men couldn't die, but he could still lump off the Captain's ugly head and kick it overboard. Let him crawl all over the bottom over the sea looking for it until he rots.

He liberated a rope from one of the attackers, shaking him off into the water, and swung over, securing another rope aboard the _Black Pearl_. The un-dead crew was thrown to attack the _Interceptor_, most of them fighting at the portside. James got around them unnoticed, and landed not far from the bridge.

Barbossa had his back turned to the stairs, observing the boarding with a statue-like poise. His feet were set wide apart, and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. A monkey was perched on his shoulder. The restlessly shifting creature studied the intruder suspiciously. James pressed a finger to his lips, imploring silence and stealthily advanced on his target. The monkey screeched and lunged at him. James slapped aside the offensive fur ball just in time to see an attack. It was too late to deflect it. He vaulted over the railing to dodge the slash. Undeterred, the Captain followed. Their blades clashed heavily, deciding who will attack and who will defend.

Baring a row of yellow teeth, and not without interest, the Captain grinned at the challenger, having recognised him. "James Sea, aarrr ye? I must thank you for stepping down as Jack's first mate. You've given me an opportunity to take your place, gain authority, and then use it relieve the unworthy Captain of his post."

"Touching speech," James sneered, "but I didn't come here to hear it."

The pirate chuckled as if his challenger's wrath was nothing more than a cause for amusement. Wearing the same smile he had sent countless men to their death. "Do enlighten me."

James shot him a poisonously polite smile, recalling how the two pirates in jail have reacted to being labelled during the attack on Port Royal. "I couldn't deny myself the pleasure to make closer acquaintance with a mutineer. But sending him to a place where he can repeat this nice, little speech in his defence on his judgement day might make my day."

"You've got a problem then, trying to cash in a skin of a beast you hadn't killed. You're off the edge of the map, mate. Here there be sea monsters."

James responded with a high swing, cutting off a few feathers from the Captain's hat, and received a kick to his knee in exchange. Undoubtedly, Barbossa was the best swordsman he had ever faced. James could only envy an opponent thirty years his senior who was so formidable, and wish he could do the same when or if he reached the same age. Barbossa fought defensively and conservatively against a much more energetic and agile opponent, anticipating every trick in and out of the book, letting the young man exhaust himself. James fell back to save his strength, inviting an attack. He noticed that they've covered a lot of space, edging closer to the centre of the fight. He didn't want someone to come to their Captain's rescue. His brief, sideway glance was a long enough distraction for Barbossa to bring his challenger down with a severe punch to the temple. He lunged to make the killing blow when the monkey, clutching a golden medallion, jumped onto his shoulder with an ear-piercing screech. Barbossa felt that someone was behind him and turned around quickly to meet the new threat. James tried to get up, but a large, heavy boot pressed down on his chest, stealing all breath from his lungs. He raised his sword to deflect a blow from a muscular, stripped down to his waist pirate, but none followed. The battle died down around them.

The voice of the winner confidently if gruffly filled the silence. "Thank you, Jack."

"You're welcome."

No one else could master the breezy, mocking intonation like that – it had to be Jack. James tried to raise his head to make sure that he hadn't imagined it, but his capturer growled at him, displeased, increasing the pressure on his ribs.

"Not you. We've named the monkey Jack."

The pirate removed his boot in favour of kicking the sword out of James' hand, and then grabbed his prisoner by the collar to heave him onto his feet. He was even taller than James. The prisoners were taken aboard the _Black Pearl_ where some of them where tied to the mast by two goofy pirates, one bald and the other with one eye that kept falling out of his head and impeding the task.

Jack was trying to position himself close to Barbossa, occasionally slapping away multiple weapons that were pointed at him. Somehow, he had managed to save his skin, and James not for the first time asked himself whether his brother truly was the biggest fox of the Caribbean or was he that lucky. If it was luck, it seemed to have run out because the explosion of the _Interceptor_ was telling that Barbossa did not take prisoners. The Captain was probably deciding on the most entertaining way to kill them all even as he negotiated with Turner for their release. James could only groan at the stupidity of the whelp. How many times in a row did he need to condemn Jack to death?

He had overestimated the savageness of the pirate, however. Barbossa was too shrewd to kill men who could potentially be of use to him. He ordered to tie the rest of the captured men to the masts and left them to blister in the scorching sun until he found the appropriate island where he disposed of the unwanted passengers by having Jack and Elizabeth walk the plank. The Captain examined the captured crew for any signs of insubordination. Majority of them were distinctly uncomfortable with his close scrutiny, perhaps with the exception of James who glared at him.

Barbossa pointed at James and ordered, "Him too."

Eager for more entertainment, the pirates set James loose and pushed him to the plank.

"Let me guess about that part where you've made a deal not to harm the rest of the crew," said James. He had hoped to get Jack off that island once Barbossa released them as per agreement, but it certainly wasn't part of the Captain's plan to give Jack another chance to escape. "The rules are more of the guidelines."

"The rest of the crew didn't ruin my hat," said Barbossa. "Off with you."

Lazily, the Captain removed a pistol from his belt. James dived without waiting to be shot at. He swam underwater away from the ship as far as holding his breath allowed. He was not far behind Jack when they climbed onto the shore.

Elizabeth was the least pleased. She looked like a drowned, finicky cat as she gathered her skirt, which kept tripping her up, to get out of the water. Her bad temper about being marooned on an island meanwhile her beloved was in a mortal peril reflected on anyone near her. "Jack, how did you escape the last time that you were made 'a governor' of this island?" she demanded to know.

"He is the governor again?" James chuckled. It was ridiculous to feel satisfied with life at present, yet he was because he and Jack have escaped with their lives after all. "Then I call dibs on Commodore." He picked up a palm leaf from the ground and set it on top of his head like a hat. "Don't you think I make a good one?"

"Yes Sir, Your Commodoreness, you do," Jack confirmed. He saluted James with his sword sheath.

"You're impossible!" Elizabeth yelled, stomping away from them.

Jack looked up at the sky with a strange waving motion of his wrists like he was communicating with an invisible bird. He then consulted his compass and went off in the opposite direction.

James considered who to follow. He settled on Elizabeth, somewhat curious why exactly Turner was willing to die for her.

"Miss Swann, I'm sorry, but we cannot escape from this island easily," he told her. "Nor is it a matter of withholding the information from you. The last time Jack had been marooned he was saved and delivered for a fair price to Tortuga by the rumrunners."

"That's it then?" she asked, stopping to shake the water out of her long hair. "That's the entire legend of the famous Jack Sparrow?"

"You can choose to believe the story about the turtles if you like," James grinned at her. She was pretty, at least much prettier than the picture Turner had drawn of her. Her physical appearance was the kind he was attracted to. Even her forward temperament and passion caused the sparks of interest. Apparently it wasn't mutual. She glared daggers at him, at present seeing Barbossa in every man who resembled a pirate and hating them for it.

"Stop following me! I don't want a company of a lying, cheating pirate who always finds ways to get around fulfilling the agreements."

James shrugged and began walking away from her. It wasn't in his principles to seduce women with their hearts already taken, and she seemed a poor company at present for anything else. Soon, he heard her running after him. Kicking stray crabs and stomping on the sea shells must have not been enough to vent her anger. "Lying, cheating and despicable!" she yelled, trailing after him.

"Have I lied to you or have you learned the truth and it has made you mad-er?" James inquired airily.

She sputtered. With his entire back he sensed that she was looking for something that was his fault. "Even your voice is a lie. Why were you faking an accent at Port Royal other than making up another lie on the spot for no reason at all?"

In spite of a sea shell hitting him on the back of the head, James didn't look back and sped up. "I believe we should find Jack," he said.

"I doubt he can go far. We can't lose him even if we wanted to," Elizabeth muttered. "Another shameless pirate, who at least has the decency to look like one, unlike some people."

"What is that suppose to mean?" James stopped abruptly. His headache was returning due to her yelling, something he intended to prevent. Perhaps Barbossa was onto something when he sent her overboard.

She must have sensed his annoyance and lowered her tone. "You remind me of a Navy officer in this uniform. With your hair combed you might pass for a military man rather than a pirate or at least someone whose parents were in the military."

He tensed. "You have quite an imagination."

"I know it sounds odd," she said, misinterpreting his reaction. "I am probably influenced by something my father had told me about Admiral Norrington. His five year old son had been abducted about twenty years ago. The Admiral had sent numerous expeditions looking for his boy, but never found him. Eventually, his superiors told him that he must focus on his duties instead of attending to his private matters. The Admiral was forced to abandon his search under threat of being removed from the Navy. But, I believe he never got over this tragedy, nor had he given up on finding his son. This is why he still serves at the Caribbean, although he could have retired or moved to a more advantageous post due to his connections."

It was tempting to tell her that she was right, just to see what her reaction to him would be like, just once to reveal the truth that had been drowning his heart like a large stone. "No, thank you," James forced the response appropriate for a pirate. "I think I'll pass on a relation to a man nicknamed the Scourge of Piracy."

"He isn't that bad," Elizabeth challenged.

"Not from my perspective."

"Now that I think about it, you do look like him, just dirtier," she persisted. "And your voice is similar. And you are the same age his son would be."

"I see," James said, trying not to show how much this story affected him. Summoning indignation helped. "May I remind you that you are following a notorious pirate, who will not hesitate to strangle you, and angering him by comparing him to his deadly enemy?"

Her glare was back full force, daring him to try, but she was deprived of a retort when Jack appeared, shouting and waving his arms in the air.

"Ahoy, you love birds! Come quick, I found something important!" he summoned.

James darted around Elizabeth and ran. She followed, hissing in pain whenever some minor, hidden in the sand shells pricked her bare feet.

Jack was running like a mad man, weaving a complicated path through a tall grass and around the trees. Suddenly, he vanished from view. James nearly fell into a hole in the ground. As he balanced on the edge, a trail of sand disturbed by his boots slid into the hole. Ignoring the dust shower, Jack's outstretched arms appeared with two bottles in his possession.

"We're saved!" Jack declared loudly.

"Rum!" Elizabeth exclaimed, having expected to find the means to escape from the island. "You found rum?"

Jack climbed out of the storage and made a grand gesture, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to the Caribbean."


	22. Chapter 22

"But WHY is the rum gone?"

The tragic exclamation might have produced some compassion on James' behalf had he not spent the entirety of the previous evening brooding. He had been sitting away from the fire, drinking rum, while Jack and Elizabeth behaved like they were celebrating their Marooned Day.

Exploding crates of rum and bitter smoke had him awakened from slumber with a heartfelt groan. He was beginning to develop profound appreciation for silence. He smelled the problem before he saw it, and decided to abandon the premises before Jack woke up, but his body was protesting four days of utter abuse and moved sluggishly. Tempers higher than the raging fire exploded before he managed to evacuate to a safe distance.

Why was everyone always shouting? Try as he might, James couldn't get away. Jack came running after him, muttering profanities and continuing his conversation with the imaginary Elizabeth. "It bloody is now!" he yelled.

"Shut up!" James snapped.

With his ever unmatched intuition, Jack furrowed his eyebrows quizzically and curbed around James, catching hints of his companion's emotional state, and then made a face. "I know the rum is gone. We're all upset about it, but it seems to me that your anger is misplaced for I am not the one who burned it."

"Rum has nothing to do with it!"

"It doesn't?"

Why had he been so happy yesterday that Jack Sparrow was alive? James couldn't recall. He wanted to throttle the lying, cheating, despicable pirate, as the woman had said. "Elizabeth told me that my father had been looking for me. Not just that, but he had put considerable effort into finding me."

"He had? Splendid!"

"You knew, Jack!" It had to be so. His brother was too clever to have been left unaware. "You knew and you let me believe my entire life that my father held nothing but contempt for me."

Jack stroked his chin. It was a sign on nervousness, although he was giving away nothing but a smile. "Pirate," he announced like it explained everything.

This must be how the crate of rum felt before blowing up. It was a savage delight to have his fist crash into the face of the man who earned it ever since locking him in the brig. "Don't let that notion comfort you," James spat, ignoring the stinging pain in his knuckles and Jack who was sneezing out the sand that has gotten into his nose when he fell. It was a good thing that his weapons have been confiscated. He just might have shot his lousy excuse for a brother. To be away from the murderous temptation, James turned to leave when he caught sight of a longboat heading towards the island and a ship anchored no more than quarter mile off the shore.

"There will be no living with them now," Jack muttered.

The atmosphere in the boat was that of a mutual glaring. Elizabeth was wrapped in a marine uniform and huddled at the front of the boat farthest from the two guarded pirates at the back. She was glaring at her rescuers for demonstrating too much zeal at upper handing the pirates whom she was loath to see hung no matter to irritating they were. The marines kept glaring at the prisoners to scare them into 'no funny business' submission. Meanwhile, the pirates appeared to be more at odds with each other than with the navy and kept an unfriendly distance between them.

The boat reached the _Dauntless _with a rough thud against her side, and the marines helped Elizabeth out first. James tarried, waiting for Jack to climb on board ahead of him, but a poke with a bayonet in the rear sent him upwards, sprawling at the feet of the man in command of the ship.

"Do get up Mr Sparrow. I promise, soon you will have plenty of opportunity to be lying down."

"Captain! Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack corrected as his trinket decorated hair and then the rest of the body emerged on deck. "Not that I question your impeccable manners, Admiral, but it seems to me that it's typical to look at the man you're addressing."

The Scourge of Piracy took in the claim unperturbed. "It appears that we have two Jack Sparrows," he summarised, and the marines laughed. "I'm frankly at a loss, which one of you should we hang first."

Jack inserted himself between the Admiral and James, dragging down his sleeve to reveal the tattoo of a sun half sunk into the sea and a bird flying over it. "There is only one Captain Jack Sparrow," he announced, leaning closer than strictly allowable into Norrington's personal space.

The Admiral's nose twitched, but even the stinky breath was no match for his stoicism, and he schooled his features into a steel mask. "I suppose you would care to introduce your companion," he said, distracted by looking at the other prisoner over the top of Jack's hat. There was something elusive about the man that was urging him to remember one feeling, vague and distant but very important. A clumsy tug on the ribbon that held his diamond encrusted medal snapped his attention to the thief who pretended that nothing happened when Norrington slapped his hand away.

"This is Hugh Jass, but he likes to introduce himself with my name," Jack informed everyone, meanwhile James shot him an evil glare that could have set the ship on fire. "You can't blame the fellow for admiring me. I am the famous, Captain Jack Sparrow, after all."

"There is nothing about you that should be admired," Lawrence cooled him off, "Captain, if you insist, but I do not see your ship."

"Ah, but I know exactly where she is, and so will you if you would be willing to adjust your heading. Just think about it, the opportunity to eliminate one of the greatest threats in the Caribbean."

"The Royal Navy is capable of dealing with the piracy without your assistance," the Admiral informed him. "I follow His Majesty's command, not summons of a dirty pirate."

"Admiral, the _Black Pearl's_ crew has taken William prisoner. We must save him," Elizabeth implored.

The Governor took her hand, mostly to keep her from protesting. He was torn between supporting his daughter and realisation how difficult this was for his friend who in spite of the rumours had a heart. "William is responsible for his own decisions, regrettable as they are. Turning to piracy was not the kindest way to repay for all we have done for him."

"And ain't it a neat responsibility circle," Jack announced, sauntering around the Admiral and performing some form of a newly invented dance. "Some tend to be responsible for their own suffering, doom and gloom after upholding their children to an impossibly high standards and then abandoning the dearly beloved offspring when they cannot maintain these standards."

Norrington grabbed Jack's throat, without as much as moving a step from his position, and put an end to all the gloating and motion. Although there was hardly any change in his demeanour, everyone took an unconscious step back. "What do you know about it?" he all but breathed, bending his elbow just enough to force the pirate a step too close to escape a disquieting scrutiny that rendered lies useless.

In spite of an increasing pressure on his throat Jack grinned. "It's not a matter of what I know, but what I know that you don't know, and how to get me to tell you it because you want me to want to tell you what I do know aaaiiii," a few bones in his neck cracked, helping him amend, "I know only that you've lost something or should we say someone many years ago that finding the _Black Pearl_ might help you regain. And that you're about to lose something similar again, which would make you twice the loser."

The Admiral didn't release him until he had full confidence that Jack would do as told. "You will accompany me to the helm and provide us with the bearing to Isla de Muerta. Then, you will spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase 'silent as the grave.' Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably," Jack accepted the offer, although he wouldn't have minded to have someone else escort him to the helm, preferably someone who wasn't holding his throat hostage.

"Admiral," one of the marines dared to interrupt, pointing at the other prisoner who has been forgotten in mayhem. "What should we do with him?"

James rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Cast him in the irons and lock him in the brig."

"Indeed."

That one word was apparently worth getting wrapped up in enough shackles to imprison an army. Someone certainly had a long and mean memory about his previous escape. At least the Navy liked to keep their floor clean he contemplated for the following few days while dealing with the bonds.

"Next time I should bring the curtains and a flower pot," James muttered darkly. It felt like he had spent more time living in the brigs than on earth where the sun shone, thus he might as well have made the place homely.

The offensive irons came off with a resounding thud against the floor, not that anyone was there to pay attention. In absolute stillness, the quiet tapping of the rat claws against the wood spoke volumes, giving the ship an abandoned aura. One might have imagined that the _Dauntless_ was cast on land, so fixed she was, like a predator collecting herself for the fatal jump. James massaged his sour wrists with the sense of urgency nagging at the back of his mind. He had the creepy feeling back, the type that appeared whenever the supernatural was about to make its presence known.

A shot echoed through the ship, eerily bouncing off the walls, immediately followed by screams and more fire. James renewed his efforts to get out of the cell.

With an eager clip clop, something small and round bounced down the stairs. The object rolled through the bars and bumped into his foot. Instinctively, James picked it up.

"Hey, you! Give that back!"

There was a blond pirate, his face disfigured by an empty socket, hopping down in the wake of the bouncing object. He was followed by a stockier man.

"What are you going to do if I don't?" James challenged, "Not like you can get to me through these bars." He barely refrained from chucking away the eyeball that must have in its immortal lifetime been in the most unsavoury places even a pirate wouldn't touch.

"Hey, that wasn't very nice!"

The stocky pirate nudged his offended partner in the ribs as he dangled the keys between them. "Can we or can't we?" he mocked, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"It would be a shame if we could," the blond tisked as they unlocked the cell and advanced on James with their weapons drawn.

"Catch!" James threw the eye right at its owner. The sword clattered against the floor as the eye slipped through the pirate's fingers. He dropped on his knees, grabbing handfuls of air, and knocking his companion off balance in the process. The blunder was long enough for James to rip the keys from the faltered grasp and duck around the pair. He threw his entire weight against the door, fighting the stockier pirate who forgot about his cutlass and tried to force the door open. Too late; the lock clicked shut.

"No fair!" they shouted as James escaped.

Showing up on deck unarmed was suicidal. Thus, preventing any unfavourable encounters, James snuck to the lower deck, looking for something explosive. Through the open cannon port he saw boats with the marines approaching the ship. A couple of pirates were aiming cannon at them. There was a pyramid of cannon balls nearby that James tipped over. As the pirates scurried out of the way, he jumped onto the cannon, slightly altering the aim. The cannon ball splashed only a yard from the head boat, the explosive wave covering the Admiral overhead.

The rudest interruption of their brilliant plan to blow the marines to Davy Jones was most unwelcome and punishable by death. The pirates chased the offender until they discovered that they were tied to a support beam so tight they couldn't move a finger.

With the situation handled below, and the weapons confiscated from his opponents, James emerged on deck. He focused on severing limbs and kicking any unwanted intruders overboard when he could, but for every pirate dealt with two more emerged to take their place. James had his back pressed against the railing when several shots removed the immediate threat, and the newly arrived marines entered the battle. The remaining sailors retreated towards the main group. James moved along with them, getting closer and closer to his father in battle.

The Admiral, flanked by his senior officers, was locked in a battle with the leader. His natural reservation was edged with a cold, controlled fury. He fought as if death had no more meaning than a few ripples in the water left by a dropped down body that would soon disappear and be forgotten. An officer on his right fell by an axe that split his chest in two, opening Lawrence to an attack.

Not even Jack Sparrow could bargain with death. It was an errant thought intertwined with determination to still her advance as James came in between two forces. His blade entered the pirate's heart, a seemingly useless gesture, but the trade was accepted. Blood trickled down his blade from the fresh wound. The pirate staggered back into a beam of moonlight that used to illumine his immortality and now shone on him in farewell. He fell dead.

Something cold entered James as well, but he ignored it, indifferent to the searing pain in his chest. All he saw was the reflection of himself in the Admiral's stormy eyes - green locked with grey - and heard the loud echo of his voice, "Father!"


	23. Chapter 23

As his consciousness sluggishly clambered towards the light, James registered that he was waking up in the most unusual surroundings. His head was resting on a soft and comfortable pillow in a room that smelled of sandalwood. Whereas, he was mostly used to waking up on the floor with his head resting on the least comfortable rock in whichever cell or brig he was confined to that usually smelled like mould. Being alive was strange on its own. He had not expected to ever wake up again, back on the deck in the dead of the night when he was looking into his father's eyes. He could almost appreciate being alive, except he was feeling like had been hugged by a Kraken, an experience which hardly left a single rib unbroken. Out of caution, he kept his eyes closed and his breath steady as two subdued voices became clearer. One voice belonged to his father. The other he didn't recognise, but it was vaguely familiar.

"The physical resemblance is astounding, but you have always put faith in caution and your reason more so than in your feelings. Surely, reason suggests that it isn't a sufficient proof that this is your son." The voice was almost soft, certainly diplomatic, but in no way weak. James felt like the speaker was the type of man who would get his way but through quiet and dignified means, and currently this man was against giving James the benefit of the doubt. Thus, he was proud when his father responded with his usual firmness.

"It is more than resemblance. There are so many small signs like a mark on his thumb, but most of all his eyes and his voice. I saw Catherine again, and I have nearly thought I was the one who had shouted that warning. Everyone bore witness that he fought on our side. He saved my life."

The other sighed heavily. There was a click of a glass set on the table like a sign of amounting tension. "It is a good deed. Yet, I am concerned that your desire to be reunited with your family could be manipulated."

"I doubt that he is trying to manipulate me, otherwise he would have confessed that he is my son to try and escape the executioner's axe when we have first caught him. But, I am disappointed that you would think that my feelings would cloud my judgement."

"I am more concerned about your stubbornness rather than sentiment because once you decide to fight for something you cannot be persuaded to give up, a relationship with this questionable man in this case. Providing this is your son, he had lived almost an entire life of piracy, and may as well be damaged beyond rehabilitation. How can you possibly hope to build a relationship with him?"

"I don't have any guarantee that it's possible, or that he may want to, but he had risked his life to save mine, and he certainly knows who he is to me. I've had strong feelings when we have first arrested him. I thought it was hate, but it was recognition. I have seen the redeeming signs, yet chose to ignore them. He could have taken your daughter hostage but he didn't. He could have shot William but he had chosen to go to prison instead. Don't tell me that he has no shred of decency left in him."

"As your friend, I wish to give you both the benefit of the doubt and pardon, the same as we have done for William. However, as a Governor, I must protest allowing a pirate to stray among the peaceful population."

"As a man in charge of the security of Port Royal, I'm willing to take the responsibility for his actions," Lawrence interjected dryly, "unless you don't trust my judgement. In this case, allow me to resign my post as I am no good at it."

"I do trust your judgement, just not his," said the Governor, offended by the rebuke, "but if you insist, then I will consider the matter settled. I shall leave you alone then."

"Weatherby," Lawrence called out with a note of apology, "you are a wise man, but one thing you are mistaken about. I have never been cautious."

The governor's reaction remained unknown because the door clicked softly shut behind him, and in the deep silence James acutely felt every beat of his heart as he was left alone with his father.

"There is no need to pretend to be unconscious," said Lawrence. "I know you're awake."

"You have always known." The words escaped him before he thought about them, diminishing his remaining chances to pretend that he was no relation, not that he truly wanted to keep their connection concealed any longer. "Roselin had always been tricked, not that she ever was an attentive governess, but you've always known when I wasn't sleeping."

"Was calling her name a lucky guess?"

"Almost," James conceded. Anyone could have guessed that a boy from a well off family would have a governess, but only a few would be able to give her name. Lawrence was not going to trust this connection easily no matter how much he wanted to believe in it. "I couldn't remember her name with certainty."

"Her name was Roseanna. She had been devastated when my child had been taken. All my memories of her are blurred, and only the ones where she kept crying remain."

James had nothing to say to that. In a heavy pause between them, he idly noted that his surroundings were not those of a hospital. The Admiral took a chance to place him in his personal cabin, and a part of him hoped that it was so because Lawrence was not indifferent to him. Regardless, he had to remember that he was dealing with a famous pirate hunter.

"Where is Jack?" he asked, concern winning over fear of learning that his father might have hung his brother. He wouldn't have put it past Lawrence to deal swift justice.

"He has been confined to the brig as should all scum be. There is no need to be concerned about the welfare of that pirate."

"I am concerned. He might be the only reason I've lived." James tried to lift his head, uncomfortable in facing his father from such a vulnerable position, and fell back against the pillow. The pain flared in his chest. He gasped and coughed. Lawrence placed a steadying hand on his chest and then withdrew quickly, fearful of showing emotion. Everything they said was disjointed and restless, yet James knew that both of them wanted to learn more about each other, even if Lawrence had to be convinced that the pirate had no ulterior motives.

"You should keep steady at least for the next week. You have almost died," said Lawrence, hesitation surfacing from his heart that James had not thought he was capable of. "It had not been my intention to injure you."

"I hold no grudge. But, I must admit there is much to be said for the saying 'what you fear the most shall come.' I have never been afraid of death, but I've always feared to be killed by you, and it had nearly happened." He was afraid of rejection rather than death, but it was too unbelievable a confession from a pirate, which he would never tell anyone but himself. Lawrence was out of sight again. Not that the Admiral gave much away, but James wished could see whether he was believed or mistrusted.

"I would like you to explain something to me," said Lawrence. "I have confiscated a painting which belongs to me from your possessions. It was on the _Interceptor_ hidden in a drawer. Why have you broken into my cabin, and of all the valuables chose to take this one?"

"So this is my mother if you're asking," James confirmed. "I wasn't sure. You've never talked about her, and we've never had a painting in our house, but I've always wondered about her, and about you."

"You can still learn more about me." The offer was extended but ready to be taken back at the slightest wrong.

"I hope so," James accepted wearily. He was tired. His eyes were sliding close against his will, and he fought the urge to yawn, realising that he may not get another chance to talk to his father. He sensed that cautious as it was, there was a connection established between them. He was tempted to ask what his father intended to do with him, but he sensed that hanging was far from Lawrence's mind. They would use the time while he was recovering to understand each other better, and then see whether they wanted to split up or take a step to get closer.

"We can negotiate the terms of our relationship when you recover," Lawrence offered.

"I accept."

Before the sleep claimed him, James heard a whispered admission. "I have never forgotten you. I will not lose you again."

* * *

><p>Merry Christmas. =) May this season bring you joy, kindness and inspiration.<p>

This chapter is a bit short, but it was better to split it up. So, one more chapter to go.


	24. Chapter 24

He was beyond redemption. James acknowledged it when he looked up at his father, for it must have been his fate ever to be admiring a figure set far above him. The Admiral was up on the steps above the crowd with a perfect view of the hanging platform in the company of the Governor and William with Elizabeth at his shoulder.

James had known that Lawrence was bound by law. In all of their conversations neither of them had mentioned it, but the matter stood between them like an unsurpassable reef barrier, hidden beneath the clam surface of the water. They wedged a private war against each other while trying to conceal their efforts - James not saying that he was trying to free Jack, Lawrence keeping silent about his efforts to prevent it. The guards outside the jail have been strictly warned to never let James anywhere near the cell where the famous pirate was held. Thus, all his attempts to reach Jack have failed.

The argument broke out prior to the morning of the execution regardless of their effort to keep peace between them. As a result, James left. He had not spoken to Lawrence since. James remembered the bitter words they've exchanged. He didn't want them to be the last ones Lawrence would hear from him.

"_I am just as much pirate as Jack is. If he is getting hung, why are we not together?"_

"_James, be reasonable! Have you any idea the effort it had taken me to obtain a pardon for you alone? You are not even branded, which allowed me to argue a case on behalf of a missing family member, whom I will be responsible for. However, it's impossible to fashion an excuse for one of the most famous pirates. Brag as he may, it is best to be unknown for the foul deeds than to be famous for them as there is less chance to be forgiven."_

James understood. It pained him, more so because in two weeks that have taken his wound to heal, he established a heedful relationship with his father. He learned a lot about Lawrence. Their connection was greater than similar voices because they had the same strictness, biting sarcasm, and the same intuition when it came to right and wrong. Yet, he had to walk away from it. The Governor was right, it was impossible to rehabilitate him. If refusing to watch like a coward as his brother was hung put him beyond redemption, then so be it.

"Father, I love you." James put all his feelings and regret into few simple words before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. He pushed through the locked rows of shoulders and elbows towards the platform where the list of crimes was announced. It was long, yet getting shorter, and the executioner prepared to make the final call. Not caring who got in his way James got through aggressively, afraid that he wouldn't make it before the lever was pulled. The town clerk mercilessly concluded.

"…hung by the neck until dead."

Jack's lips moved to say something that suspiciously looked like 'bugger' when a sword wheezed past James' ear and sunk deep into the wood right under Jack's feet, providing him with a flimsy foothold as the trapdoor fell open. William charged past James up onto the platform to stop the executioner from completing his task.

"I didn't ask for your help! Especially, if you're out to cut my ears off!" James snapped at the unexpected saviour half teasingly and half annoyed that he wasn't the one who reached the platform first. It was between him and Jack, no one else, but somewhere in his gut he felt that perhaps the kid wasn't that bad even if undeniably annoying. He slashed in half the rope that still connected Jack's neck to the gallows.

Jack fell down like a sack of potatoes, but with the usual liveliness, especially when it came to saving his skin, he instantly recovered and cut his arms free with an approving nod of the whelp's retort, pleased to be remembered.

"It's a good thing I am not helping YOU then," William shot back.

"Cocky whelp," James grinned. "No wonder that woman likes you."

The executioner made a big swing with an axe that was nearly enough to have sent William flying all the way to the docks. James got behind him and bonked the huge bear of a man over the head with the hilt of his sword. William caught the executioner who almost collapsed on top of him and pushed the unconscious man off the platform into the crowd right on top of the Admiral.

The act gained an outmost approval from Jack who saluted the pile up with a graceful sway of his arm and shouted, "Let this be known as the day you've almost huuuung." He tripped and fell off the platform face first into an ample cleavage of a lavish woman. "Jack Sparrow," he concluded, pulling his nose out of the deep cavern between the two large globes.

The resounding slap even made the Admiral wince. James grinned, having never approved of Jack's habit of leaving his name frequently to those people who would have most unflattering memories about him, when a hearty push sent James into the same direction of a squishy mass encasing his face and an overwhelming scent of roses. Two arms wrapped around his neck. His face was raised, and devouring lips pressed against his. He was saved by a soldier who turned out to be a bit faster than his comrades and grabbed the pirate, peeling him away from the embrace. The woman shrieked in indignation and hit the soldier over the head with her umbrella.

Released, James ran from them both. He slipped through the crowd with the fluidity of an eel, and caught up to Jack and William on top of the stairs where the pair was tripping their pursuers with a rope. They charged through the remnants of the crowd to the battlements where they were cornered, and a row of bayonets blocked their path. The marines surrounded them with a final clang of William's sword against the numerous weapons.

"I've always liked you," said Jack trustingly to one of the marines, thus earning a poke in the ribs with a pointy side of the weapon.

"I think he really likes you," said another marine to the one who poked Jack with the bayonet.

"He does not."

"Yes, he does. Otherwise, he wouldn't have said so."

"Oh!" the first soldier exclaimed sarcastically. "Are you saying that an unethical scumbag who is attempting to escape from justice wouldn't possibly have any ulterior motive for confessing that he likes his jailer, although the above mentioned scumbag would want to fool the above mentioned jailer into letting him go?"

"No," said the second marine after a decisive nod. "However."

"However?" the first man said incredulously.

"However, the presence of the ulterior motif an unethical scumbag would have to trick the jailer into letting him go, does not exclude a possibility that he differentiates between different jailers, therefore there is a possibility that he likes some more than others, therefore he could possibly be telling the truth that likes you."

Jack stepped in between them to clasp the shoulders of the arguing pair in encouragement, and then took a stealthy step backwards, but Lawrence's sword pressed into his back.

"Enough," the Admiral cut down the argument, and once more blocked the prisoners, who had slipped out of the surrounding ring of weapons, from the stairs. "Don't you realise that freeing a sentenced man is an act punishable by law? Do you all want to be hung?"

"Perhaps, we should hang them all," the Governor suggested.

"No!" Elizabeth abandoned her father's side to stand between the two parties. She grabbed William's arm like her life was connected to his well being.

Both parents faced the mutiny of their offspring. The Governor was first to concede. At his request, Lawrence ordered the men to lower their weapons.

"So, this is the choice I get, either to lose my sons or to accept a pirate," Lawrence asked.

"It is," James answered. Just as hard as it was for him to choose between his family members, it was equally hard for Lawrence to choose between his child and the law that he dedicated his entire life to upholding.

The palpable tension was broken by a loud screech, "Bring in the sails!" A stream of poop landed on the marine's shoulder as a blue and yellow parrot settled on top of the pole. The marine glared at the bird.

Jack smiled widely like it was his birthday, perhaps for the first time glad for the fiendish creature's existence. "Well, then. I think we've all arrived at a very special place," he exclaimed, almost dancing away from the blade's shimmering tip, but when Lawrence shadowed all his moves, Jack placed his hands on top of the Admiral's shoulder and leaned on him. "Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically."

The Admiral fastidiously brushed off the offending hands. Jack took a couple of apologetic steps back, edging closer to the parapet that overlooked the sea, and pressed the palms of his hands together, taking a small bow.

"I shall leave you in this happy father and son reunion, with the exception of Elizabeth who is in fact a daughter," Jack announced. As Lawrence made another step towards the elusive pirate like a large predator, Jack made a wide jump, steadying an inch from toppling into the water. He took off his hat to bid a dramatic farewell, overbalanced, and fell backwards into the sea.

"The fool!" one of the men exclaimed after verifying that the pirate most inelegantly dropped into the water with a huge splash and came out gasping for air. "There is nothing but an open sea. He will have to return to the shore!"

"I think not!" William exclaimed, pointing to a ship that was sailing directly towards the fort, following with his finger the parrot when the bird took off in a bright flurry of feathers and flew towards the black ship.

"Is this what you wanted?" Lawrence asked James quietly.

"It is," James confessed.

"And do you have any inclination to follow?"

"It depends on what is waiting for me here should I stay."

"Not the gallows," the Admiral promised. "I will not see my family hung."

"Sir, what about the _Black Pearl_?" the lieutenant interrupted. "Should we prepare the _Dauntless_ for the pursuit?"

The Admiral clasped his hands behind his back and regarded his subordinate not without a grain on irony. "Mr Gillette, and just how do you envision that we hop aboard our ship and chase after the _Black Pearl_, which just happens to be the fastest ship of the Caribbean, when she already has a head start on us? I have no intention of wasting my time on a short race that we will lose. Catching the _Black Pearl_ requires carefully planned strategy and preferably more than one ship. If we were to go after her, we must have at least one full day of preparation, and we will have to be ready to spend a very long time out at sea hunting her down. Our duty is to guard Port Royal, not sail out gallivanting after some pirates. Since these pirates are not attacking Port Royal, but are running away from it, I have no intention of going after that ship, unless the Admiralty sends a direct order to pursue her."

"Understood, Sir."

"Good, you're dismissed then."

As there was no longer anyone to apprehend, the marines cleared the battlements to return to their posts, some of them passing only an inch away from William who looked more nervous with each passing moment under Swann's close scrutiny.

"I have a serious conversation with my future son in law," the Governor announced.

William gulped, allowing the Swanns to lead him away; his future with Elizabeth being at stake.

Before long, only James and Lawrence remained on the battlements alone. Neither of them was comfortable enough to speak, yet no words were necessary. There was nothing to be said between the two reserved men whose actions spoke louder than words. Both of them were watching the _Black Pearl_ wistfully; one wishing to put an end to piracy and another knowing that he will miss Jack. Yet, James was confident that his brother was thinking the same as he was that they will meet again, and of course Jack was sure that his brother will choose to return to piracy. Of that, James wasn't convinced, but he was confident that he will never betray his brother. A smile tugged his lips when he glanced at his father inconspicuously, once more finding that little reflected on the Admiral's face of what was on his mind.

Lawrence didn't have a spyglass, but the _Black Pearl_ was close enough for him to see the line thrown to help a man out of the water. James had shared the entire story, thus it was no longer a mystery to him that it was Teague's son commanding the legendary ship. Letting it go was easier than he thought. He was going to allow Sparrow an escape, just this once, to put en end to the vengeful circle, so nothing from the past would come back to settle the score again. A life for a life, that's all it took. It was a matter of paying the debt of honour.

* * *

><p>Aaaaand, this fic is done! I've been debating whether or not to leave James with Lawrence, and decided that he needs to spend more time with his father before crusading off on any other adventure. =)<p>

Thank you all for reading! And especially thank you for reviewing, I much appreciate your comments! It always brings me inspiration knowing that what I'm doing can make someone smile.

We currently have Holidays, and the time of the year where many wishes come true! So, close your eyes and make good ones! Happy New Year!


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